On self consciousness and the internet

Like anyone who has ultimate goals of being able to put the word “writer” as their profession in their tax returns, I have a real push-pull love/hate relationship with the internet and its usefulness, in general, for writers. And a deep fear of being classified solely as a blogger, particularly since it’s a very ugly word!

So this post is mostly to say that my corner of the internet, while I’m doing the work to get an actual “I’m a paid writer check out all I’ve done!” site up and going, is going to be a respite for me and will serve a couple of purposes:

I do not want to write about my family in any detail.

I do not want to write about my boyfriend.

It sucks, sometimes, because I think gosh, as a young gal, shouldn’t I just parlay a blog about sexual exploits for fame and quick cash? But the shelf life of those blogs tends to be very quick and dirty, just like the salacious details of the overblogged love life. (Ha.) And that’s not what I want to do.

It’s funny, to me, that there are so many food blogs out there because I feel like writing about food, is, essentially, writing about love.

I don’t really want to write about my wild and crazy social life since, frankly, I may live in New York and that’s fun and all, but I would prefer a little privacy regarding my day to day existence.

I had goals, as a child, to be another Roger Ebert. But professionally, those goals are fading. I still find movies and culture overall to be a fascinating mirror of humans and their foibles, and I do want to get down some of those thoughts and opinions when I have the desire and drive. In particular, I want to write a little bit about music; I’ve been going through a burn-out phase linked to being a freelance journalist who was specializing in features and reviews on music, particularly indie rockish stuff. Having to consume things in rapid time in order to be able to have an official opinion takes a lot of the transcendence out of music. It’s nice to say, though, that I like music again. The new Thao Nguyen is great. Girls are fun. Wild Beasts conjure up psychosexual melodrama in a way that’s fantastic.

Since this is a professional blog, under my name, I have to note: I’m working for TribecaFilm.com, where I write on a daily basis about movies. This means that movies I’ve covered on the site are not fair game at all for this blog, unless I’m totally, thoroughly enthusiastic about them and want to remind the world of how important these films are. 

I want to write about art that excites me. A good piece of art can make the world come into laser-sharp focus, can make you feel like a guitar string that’s just been plucked. It’s incredibly vital.

So that’s a start. A mere start! And keep in mind that this is a safe space for thoughts that are, essentially, rough drafts. They are not slaved-over pieces, they are appealing for their immediacy, I hope.

Oh, and a note: I’m happy to have made the switch to Tumblr, professionally, if only because it is so easy to post photos every day of the week. Arty photos of buildings and trees. You have been warned.