Come one, come all, a truly great moment for our civilisation has arrived: I’ve managed to trick people into thinking that I’m capable of more intelligent thought than a particularly unlucky Whack-A-Mole mole for an entire year! 365 days! 52 weeks! 12 months!
Except that not really; I’ve taken days off here, there, and indeed everywhere – meaning the momentous birthday post will be number 304 across the 365 days I’ve written daily posts – and this blog has, to use a technical term, been utter horsesh*t at times. But I’m still rather pleased with myself.
I started this thing to encourage myself to write regularly, and while I’m sure that my English studies have had a greater impact on improving my written style than this collection of half-baked ideas, this blog has undoubtedly made me more comfortable with expressing myself with words. I’d always been competent at this, and happy to do it for school newsletters and local magazines if there were stickers / jam doughnuts thrown in to sweeten the deal (literally), but now I am actively looking for ways to get my writing seen by people, and I think I’m now more in danger of ramming my pieces down people’s throats, than never mentioning them at all, which is a good (if slightly saddening at first) thing for a writer to be doing.
For instance, I could realistically be writing for five different publications this year at UCL, two of which could be in new ways that I suggested, meaning I’d both create, and populate, a whole sub-genre of pretentious articles and pieces on student websites, instead of just doing the populating bit. Also, my novel has actually progressed this year, and I’m going to take a stab at NaNoWriMo next month (unless anything dramatically distracting happens in the next three weeks), with an idea for a novel already bubbling in my head like a tin of slightly iffy-smelling beans being swirled round an unwashed pot in a student kitchen, so even if existing publications don’t want me to vent on their pages, I can just do it myself.
Hell, I’m thinking of bringing back Wordsdays (long-term readers will get that one!) in their very own blog, where I would write about a different writer each month, and encourage exciting things like guest posts, and articles from my friends, to break up the monotony of having the same sad bastard prattling on at you all the time.
I’m also aware that few of these ideas will see the light of day, much less develop to the extent I’m envisaging, but that’s almost unimportant here. I’ve never been very ambitious in my life – the sage and eminent philosopher Homer Simpson once remarked ‘Trying is the first step towards failure’ – and while I’m hardly a born-again megalomaniac emailing thousand of novel ideas off to beleaguered publishers like a prostitute with an impressively communicable STI, I’m planning things and looking forward to things that I’m doing for myself, for the first time in my life. Before it was always ‘complete this essay’ or ‘finish this bit of coursework’, so doing things for my own sake, rather than for the sake of avoiding a telling-off, is rather awesome.
And I’m not publishing this on the cake-eating, party hat-wearing day itself because I’m going to start a tradition here on the blog that dates back to my very first post; every fifth of October, the birthday of the blog, I will express surprise and ridicule at one thing in my bathroom. This could be interpreted as a deep comment on the changing status of things as integral to our lives as bathrooms in such a short space of time, or even as a comment on the commercialisation of something that is ultimately functional in nature, the bathroom, but really this tradition is as valid as any other: it exists for the hell of it, and is meaningless beyond that.
So cheers for reading a year’s worth of these things, and here’s to an enjoyable next 365 days of posts about socks, stamp collecting, and water bottles!