Is This Blog A Blog?

I’m serious.
Ever since I started blogging, I’ve been besieged with doubts.

Shouldn’t blogs be topical?

Sometimes my posts are, but mostly they’re just what I’m thinking about at the moment. That’s topical enough for me, sure, but good enough for the Blogosphere?

Shouldn’t blogs have one subject:

Like politics, or food, or shoes, or . . . cats?

Shouldn’t the posts be short?

Mine started out way too long, and even now may be a tad lengthy. The shortest one I’ve managed so far was the one about Petite Departments. I couldn’t resist saying that even though it’s not true. I have no self control. Wait. That’s very bloggerish. So maybe I’m on the right track!

Not so fast, Fortunato.

Where’s all the bad grammar and misspellings?

I can’t! I don’t even send an e-mail without running it through spell check. All those years being an editor have ruined me for the Internet, where the dears and the cantaloupes roam. And seldom is heard an accurate word, let alone a well-formed sentence.

I take too long.

Blogs should be dashed out, in a stream of consciousness.

Nora Ephron, my hero and who, be still my heart, I’ve been compared to (to whom I’ve been compared?), said that if takes more than 45 minutes to write, it’s not a blog, it’s something else. An essay, maybe?

I take as long as I need to write a post, sometimes with a lot of self-editing. And it always is time- consuming to post the piece and add images because that requires some degree of technical know-how, and sometimes I don’t know how.

My worse non-bloggy error of all: 
I have never done a post about cats.

Really. Never. About naming a puppy once (where I got lots of comments), but nothing about kittens. This is practically unAmerican, and will, if left unchecked, anger the Blogosphere gods if it hasn’t already.

I have nothing against cats. In fact, in another life, I had a two cats I loved, a beautiful little guy, part Russian Blue, named Christopher for a bar I hung out in the Village and an adorable affectionate female named Charlie because she had markings on her face like a Charlie Chaplin mustache. Maybe I’ll do a post someday about the whole poignant story, which involves not getting them neutered (a case of anthropomorphism gone amok), having them grow up, and dealing with a litter of little ones in a tiny NYC apartment.

Meanwhile, I’ve never felt the need to write a blog about cats, which seems to be a requirement on the blogosphere. I intend to make up for that today.

By the way, you’re also supposed to repeat words so that the search engines pick them up and direct readers who are interested in that subject to your site. This is called search engine optimization, or SEO to you. It’s boring to to repeat words, and isn’t usual what you’d call good writing. But what do search engines know about good writing. And who am I to argue with search engines.

Cats. Cats. Cats. Cats. Cats. Cats. Katz!

Search Engines take that!

As for Katz, I figure someone out there must be searching for a delicatessen and this too might lure them to the site. Bloggers have no shame.

 And now, to further make up for all these lapses of the past. I’m going to do a short post with cute pictures of cute cats, with their names spelled wrong.

And I’m really cheating by using only kittens! Kute Kittens! How can you resist? . . .

From left to right, we have: Floughy, Tiegar and Prinsez.

Not pictured: Ginjur, Mittinz, Puhffe and LooLoo.

Had enough? Rather read some essays?
Have I got a book for you!

Click here: I Can’t Believe I’m Not Bitter!