It’s easy to be “inspirational” on the internet. To write a holier-than-thou blog post that declares proudly to the world that, “do these things, and life will right itself.” Of course, there are so many of these kinds of posts on the web that it’s hard to see value in the message of someone like, well, me.

If I were to write post declaring happily to the world that these, yes, these, are the ten steps you need to a better novel, it would be widely disregarded on the basis that I have no credentials to back up my claim (actually, it would be widely passed by as no one reads the blog part of my website). But when someone like Chuck Wendig writes “25 Things I Want to Say to So-Called ‘Aspiring’ Writers“, a big ‘ol chunk of the literary circles I follow sit up and pay attention.

Naturally, you would take writing advice from an established author over that of unproven one, but why, knowing this, do the rest of us still write things like, “10 Tips To a Better Protagonist”, “Making Your Plot Thicken”, and a whole host of other such subject matters? Why am I writing this now? The simple answer is that we have a desire to be heard (or read, in this case), but we also like to sound authoritative and knowledgeable, and some of us might be, but it’s probably more important to have practiced (successfully) what you wish to preach first.

A while ago, I wrote a post on blogging for the sake of blogging, in which I declared my disapproval of blogging about your day, when your day was a perfectly ordinary day in which nothing special happened. With this post I suppose I’m further narrowing my scope for blogging, almost to the point where, unless I write a best-seller, I won’t be able to blog about anything without being hypocritcal.

Still, I can still rant about tech news and gaming. And religion. And being a dad.