Write a blog, they say

Write a blog, they say.

So I wrote a blog. It was something called MSN Space (does anyone else remember that?!) and I shared emo poetry and listicles (books I want to read before I die; top 5 favourite movies of all time; reasons I love Heath Ledger). I could choose the colours of the background, the size of the font. A little HTML there, a dash of creativity here.

Then, I wrote another blog. It was called Tourist in my Own Town, and it was for a uni assignment. I wandered around Newcastle. Trying to be an influencer before that was a ‘thing’. Taking photos of dilapidated buildings, imagining the stories of the ghosts inside.

And, another blog. Amy in America, it was called. This was in the Tumblr days (not that those days are over, but they’re… different). My partner and I travelled across the country for six weeks. I wrote ditties about each town, a line or two about interesting people we came across, a storm brewing -- emotionally and in the clouds -- one day driving through Maryland. We broke up, I deleted the blog, started a new one. Lilac Wine, an ode to Jeff Buckley. A nod to sad days. A tribute to my youth. A way to re-post images of whimsy and lust.

Another blog. Public Spelling Mistakes. They bring me so much joy, and sometimes fury. I loved capturing the image of bolognaise spelled three different ways on one side of a menu. The sign in the local shopping centre that reads ATMs’. Yes, that’s a hanging apostrophe. No, it doesn’t belong there. Of course, I cringe each time I walk past. This blog was deleted at the same time as Amy in America. Accidentally; now there’s some beautiful irony.

Another blog. Breakfast Babies, reviewing cafes around town with my housemate. It didn’t last long; we never had the money to actually buy the breakfast. I had started my PhD, she had a penchant for shoes she couldn’t afford. So we sat on our dusty floor, eating watermelon with a spoon, the mould creeping closer to our lungs.

And again. A Wordpress site, bearing my own name (how adult!) where I shared articles I’d written for local magazines and online publications. ‘The Struggles of Big Boobs’ was by far the most popular. I watched the stats: clicks at all hours of the night in other countries. I don’t think my tongue-in-cheek stories of the woes of yoga inversions was quite what these strangers were looking for.

And again. In 2015, I started a blog called Cool People Doing Cool Things. I’d thought about it for years, because I was fascinated and inspired by people carving their own path, middle fingers up to the ‘system’, doing art and creativity and entrepreneurship and social good. For three years, I shared stories of just that -- people doing things. With the caveat that the things they did had a strong purpose, a conscious intention. Small steps to big changes. My love of writing stories with heart, stories that matter, continued to grow.

It was by interviewing inspiring people, each week during those years, that lit the spark within me. I learned so much -- these people didn’t wait for the stars to align, they aligned the stars. They leaned in, to the ideas that kept them up at night. And I could see how my words helped others to fly. To feel validated, confident in their life choices, excited over and over again about their business, their art, their thing. This blog led me places. It wasn’t wildly popular or frequently visited, but the people who found it, loved it. The people who I wrote about felt seen and heard. They offered me writing jobs, they recommended me to others, I made some amazing friends.

All the while, I had an idea of my own. Quietly, in the background. It was cool, I guess you could say. It kept me up at night. I thought about it during yoga. The name landed between my ears during a particularly transcendental child’s pose (it’s a thing). I hid behind others for a while. I kept sharing their stories of passion, purpose, excitement, change. Then one day, I leaned in. Secret Book Stuff was born. 

Let’s just say, it evolved. Things happened. I’ll tell you that story another time. I met my partner -- she fell in love with Secret Book Stuff before she fell in love with me. We opened a bookshop. We closed the bookshop. We align our stars every day.

All because I started a blog when I was fifteen. (Long bow? Go with it.)

Write a blog, they say. It will help with traffic to your website, they say. It will be a place to share your work, they say. Maybe it will change your life, I say.

So. Welcome to my [new] blog.