No Time to Write

I have three web sites and they are all stuck in the past. I began DaveWrites in 2006 and started writing about my perspectives on local economic development, the “creative class,” and active transportation/cycling. Shortly thereafter, I launched WestwoodBlog, a local news and information site. But there’s no more writing and that bugs me.

DaveWrites gave me a vehicle to learn more interesting things than I was learning in my technical work and to connect with other bloggers in the early days of blogging. I never focused the blog, and I never figured out a way to make it into a “personal branding vehicle.” It did help me generate a lot of publicity about my unemployment in 2009, but it did not lead to a specific job.

WestwoodBlog was a great way for me to connect with my town when I created it. I became a sort of news broker and met many people in real life as I got to know the politics of the town. But I have found it hard to revive now that I’m doing more “living” than writing.

This web site–I deleted the few posts I had up here about economics and generational responsibility. There were too many different directions and too little time to sit around in the basement writing.

I’ve been busy the past year. We moved twice, back to Westwood to a rental, then bought a house. I helped my mom through a divorce and relocation to an apartment here–700 miles from where she had lived all her life. My wife found a job, then another that starts in a few weeks. The kids moved to their new/old school and are now rising to 1/3/5th grades. I started a new job also–the day before I flew down to VA and drove my mom and her stuff up here to her new life. I rejoined a couple of town boards–Ped Bike Safety Committee and WestCAT, and was elected to the Housing Authority this Spring. It might make for intersting writing to share my thoughts on all that, but this is kind of one of those phases where you just do it and there’s not time to reflect.

I started writing in the 10th grade–a required journal in Chip Carter’s English class. I recall, over the years there were fits and starts of writing and much of what was written does not survive the test of time. I should probably shred those old journals–nobody needs to read about our teenage missions to see if we could buy beer or my wondering if I’d ever find the love of my life. It worked out great and the writing was a part of the journey.

But now the future comes. I stole a few minutes from work to post something on this old site. I will return again.