Hollywood seems to believe we are a nostalgic generation.
Maybe we are.
Maybe we long for the world our parents (or grandparents) grew up in.
My gentleman friend recently told me, disparingly, “I don’t have any good old man stories.” Well, dear, that’s because you’re not an old man yet.
I scrolled back to my very first blog post on WordPress. It was the day I switched webhosting from Google blogs to WordPress.
I started reading the “raw” blogs, the ones pertaining to life and not art.
In reading, I realized I missed writing about life, but found I still struggle with the lingering self-doubt of, “You can’t write life. You write fiction. That’s all!”
But even in the posts where I admitted that, the life-writing was still interesting. At least to me.
Being reminded of the past – of the good things – triggers the nostalgic soul in all of us. It brings us back to a time when we were happy, and happiness is something we all strive for.
“The Pursuit of Happiness”.
But sometimes the memory isn’t happy. It’s actually quite sad. And nostalgia rises up anyway, reminding us we got through it. We crossed the ocean and didn’t drown.
I think blogs are great. Most of the time, bloggers won’t generate a huge crowd of followers. But sometimes that’s okay. There’s still something wonderful about taking a deep breath and putting yourself out into the world. The diaries on my bed stand may never get read. My blog posts may never be seen. But that’s okay. Sometimes you have to write for you, because you can be your own most captive audience. And sometimes you go back and read about yourself and you’re reminded of the past. Whether good or bad, it’s always a nostalgic read.
This has been,
In The Raw
Fanny T. Crispin