For those of you who may not have noticed, I do not update this blog with tremendous regularity. I regret this, as during my college years I made it a point to blog frequently, either here or on one of my now-defunct sub sites. Unfortunately, as the responsibilities of real life and adulthood have set in, I have found myself visiting this space less and less. I haven't intended to neglect the site, but I have, and there's no excuse for that.
The primary issue I find myself facing is that I'm no longer sure what this site is meant to be. Oh sure, it's ostensibly my digital soapbox, from which I can scream futilely into the dark and empty space that is the Internet blogging community, but over time that notion has lost its novelty. I have been adamant in the past that StefanClaypool.com is not a forum for me to bare my soul. If I wanted to pour out all of my darkest thoughts, secrets, and desires onto the Internet, I'd have signed up for a LiveJournal. That's not what I want to do, because the web is filled with uninteresting people attempting to elucidate the internal conflicts and insecurities that they feel prevent them from achieving greatness, vainly hoping that the online community will somehow provide them validation. I don't want to be a part of that.
There are a multitude of pressures associated with maintaining a blog, not the least of which is that by publishing on the world wide web, you are exposing yourself for others to see. Among those "others" are potential future employers and other individuals that could have a tremendous impact on your existence. The information that I have chosen to put on the internet is available for all to see, and people will form judgments about me based on it. This is why I am very careful about the image I put forward on Facebook, Twitter, and other social networking sites. For this reason, what I post on this blog cannot be pointless, vulgar, or overwhelmingly self-indulgent. It cannot be composed of endless whining posts, nor can it serve as a venue for unbridled rage. It must be measured, disciplined, and honest.
StefanClaypool.com is ultimately designed to do two things: to fulfill me personally and advance me professionally. As of late, it has done neither. I think there's a couple of reasons for that. First, I've reevaluated my writing habits and philosophy over the last several months. When I was a college student, I didn't think anything of posting whatever I created in this space, because I wasn't trying to accomplish anything significant, except for gaining "exposure." I had written something and wanted to put it out there for the world to see. Now, as a college graduate and young professional, I've slowly realized that while publishing in this space might give me some small twinge of satisfaction, it doesn't translate into genuinely substantial exposure or, more importantly, financial gain.
I am currently engaged in the process of writing my first novel. This has been a goal of mine since childhood, and although I have a significant amount of work ahead of me, I am confident in my ability to both write well and manage my time. Upon completion, I hope to find a publisher and actually make some money, although I understand that doing so will be tremendously difficult. Nevertheless, I have committed to this project and I intend to see it through to the end. Unfortunately, as I have shifted my priorities to the novel, I have come to the conclusion that posting short stories and excerpts in this space is simply impractical. In short, my full literary focus is on this project, and I want to keep it "in house" until I am satisfied.
So what does that mean for StefanClaypool.com? It means that while I will try to update this space, I admit that I am currently at a loss for what to do with it. Until I figure it out, I suppose you will all have to make due with more disconnecting ramblings about my opinions on art, culture, etc. I know it's hard to suffer the occasional ravings of a verbose lunatic, but I hope that you will make an exception for me.
If you do, I'll give you cookies.