850

Break out the champagne, drop the balloons and cue the DJ. This post right here you're feasting your eyes on is my 850th blogpost. Well, 850th published one.

Like all bloggers, I have a whole slew of drafts and false starts—over 70 of 'em—that, for one reason or another I didn't deem particularly post worthy. They have titles like "The creepy clown" "Jasper is enough" and "I'll have what he's having."

Maybe they were too long. Too short. Too bad. Too late. Too serious. Too light. Too revealing. Too sexy (always a problem). Too similar. Too repetitive. Too likely to get me sued. Too poorly written. I know what you're thinking: "I've been following you for a while. Since when is 'poorly written' a criteria?"

OK smartass. Let's talk about it after I see your 850 posts.

The point is at least I have some kind of filter. Occasionally though, shields are down, my judgement is off and something gets put up here that shouldn't be. But thankfully I have a support system of several other exceptional writer friends that let me know immediately when they think I've crossed a line and should take a post down. Sometimes they're gone before you even know they've been there.

The posts, not the writers.

The other thing is 850 may not be a big number to other, more prolific writers (which would be about all of them). But it's my number and I'm happy about it.

Any writer will tell you filling the page can be challenging. But I have a feeling I'm going to have plenty of things to write about for the next four years. Or with any luck, the next two.

In the meantime, stay tuned for 851. I don't know when it'll be here, but I hear it's going to be worth the wait.

The best offense

There's a line of thought in advertising that creative work isn't really effective unless it makes someone mad. By that standard, I'm living a very effective life.

The problem with writing a blog, posting snarky little quips on Facebook and Twitter, and just generally mouthing off without a filter is that you're bound to offend someone. Still, that's no reason to quit doing it. In fact, just the opposite.

It's always teenage fun seeing how far you can push things. And getting a rise out of people, well, that's just icing on the cake. It's more than that - it's encouraging and enabling.

I try at all times to delineate between being a jerk and being funny, although I'm sure there's a long line of people who will vouch that I wouldn't know the difference if it hit me in the head.

Also something there's a long line for.

Anyway, let me apologize in advance for any future posts, comments, off-the-cuff remarks or unfiltered punchlines I blurt out.

Know that going forward, I'll try to be more considerate, and restrain from saying or doing things that offend your delicate sensibilities.

Whiner.

My own best censor

If we can't censor ourselves, who can we censor?

I was trying to think of something to post, and I started scrolling down my list of already published posts. Sprinkled throughout that list are drafts that I either started and never finished, or finished and never published.

The constant debate in the blogosphere is whether to self-police our posts, or just throw it all out there, consequences be damned. I've done both. But now I tend to be a little more discerning about the posts I publish.

I'd like to think the reason for this is that I've grown and matured as both a writer and blogger, and can see the value of being more selective in my writing.

Nah, I'm just messin' with ya. I just don't want to look like an ass.

Like most bloggers, I've occasionally used this forum to take after people and agencies in a big, bad, vicious kind of way. And I still say every one of them earned it. The problem is just because they've earned it doesn't mean I have to be the one dishing it out to them.

Almost always, having no filter leads you on the road to oblivion with both friends and potential employers (never a good thing for a freelancer).

If a friend of yours is wearing a hideous shirt - Tommy Bahama comes to mind - and you tell them, you've certainly told the truth. But to what end? What have you accomplished by it?

Now, this is not to say that every once in awhile I don't enjoy not only burning a bridge, but spreading dried leaves over it, some kindling wood then dousing it with gasoline and torching it. It can be very rewarding - but only if you're sure you're never coming back across that bridge again.

I've written posts, taken them down, then written apologies for having posted them in the first place. I used to dig my feet in and say, "It's my blog and I'll say what I want."

But, much like Jules in Pulp Ficition, it appears I'm in a transitional period.