Is there a med out there for blogfobia?

Because I think I have it. A disease. Blogfobia. See, I can’t even spell phobia! How’d it all start, Rachel, you ask.

Well, um, see, a loooong time ago, 2002, I started blogging in Diaryland. Just fun little tidbits about my days, news of my writing, my first book contract, life at the office. Which, btw, was nothing like the TV show.

I switched to Xanga, then Blogger. I hopped onto MySpace, then Facebook and a myriad of other social sites. Blogging became key to a new writer’s existence. Everyone started blogging.

All my deep, personal thoughts, funny bits about Santa Mouse Christmas songs suddenly became fodder for comparison to all the other genius writers now blogging. People started, gasp, giving stuff away. Books, iPods, prizes. Bloggers were funny. Wise. Full of publishing industry information.

Suddenly I’m Aubrey Montegue in Chariots of Fire, running the Steeple Race, landing in mud puddles, tripping over hurdles, coming in last.

Am I to be funny? Every day?! Am I to be deep and wise? Every day?! Should I give stuff away? Did I mention I’m a fledgling author?

Am I to go on about publishing industry news? Add posts of self promotion? Interview other authors. Write book reviews.

Ahhhh, I don’t know what to blog any more! Is there such a thing as a blogging trainer? I need to get in shape!

I don’t feel so good…. “Mooooommm!“

Don’t worry. There’s not enough people who read my blog to pick up my germs and spread the disease. Maybe there’s a blogphobia hospital where I can recoup with all the other authors suffering from “what do I blog?”

I use all my best brain to write books! Now, I must write an award winning blog. Sorry, I’m just not that competitive.

Don’t worry. I’m strong. I’m healthy. I’ll recover.