The importance of being earnest…

I wrote all of this in my head while I was in the shower and for some reason, now that I’m sitting down with a blinking cursor in front of me, I’m having trouble getting off the starting line. You’re all probably thinking that this is some sort of New Year’s resolution. I’ve been off the grid for so long, surely it would have taken something as powerful as a resolution to bring me back, but that’s not accurate either.

You see, I don’t really make resolutions. At least, I don’t make them at the beginning of the year. It’s always felt artificial to me and I know full well that whatever I start under that kind of a pretense will have no sticking power whatsoever. Rather, I tend to make resolutions as they are necessary. More of a metamorphosis than a mutation.

No, the reason I’m here today to because I (finally) realized the reason I’ve been avoiding the blog for so very long and it only seemed fair to share since you all have been the bearer of the absence. I write that knowing full well that everyone has probably assumed that the Platypus is defunct. If you are still reading, and you aren’t a spam bot, then you have my congratulations for having the kind of endurance rarely seen in this age. [end tangent]

I realized while I was washing my hair that I had been avoiding writing reviews because I hadn’t been writing them from my true perspective. I got caught up in thinking about who was reading the words and what they might think of them that the words slowly morphed into what I thought people wanted to read rather than what I wanted to write. It grew into a monster that had to be starved to death by resolutely ignoring its pleas to be heard. I know now that I needed that time to sit back and let things percolate in the background in order for me to realize what had grown out of my anxiety. I had been checking my stats too often. Caring about which way the numbers went far too much. I had hung so much importance on the success of the blog that I had stopped doing the very thing the blog existed to be. I stopped writing about books that I loved and started writing about books that struck me as mediocre or lackluster.

The whole reason I started this blog was because I love books. Books are the one abiding passion I’ve had my entire life. I can distinctly remember the day I got my first library card. I couldn’t have been more than eight, but I remember feeling as if Excalibur was being bestowed unto me as I signed the back of it with a child’s signature. Angels should have burst through the clouds in a holy chorus as I slipped the piece of sacred plastic into my velcro wallet. I had received a pass to enter any world I wanted at any time. It didn’t just feel like magic. It was magic. My entire life books have been the bedrock of existence and I let that get tangled up there for a while.

No more. I’m untangled now and I’ve maxed out my holds at the library once again. In fact, that’s what I spent my New Year’s Eve doing. Scrolling through the Just Ordered list at the library and placing holds with abandon. I’m quite lucky to live in a city with a marvelous library. You’ll be hearing more from me, just as soon as I get an e-mail from the library telling me that there’s magic waiting for me on a shelf.


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