According to some sources, blogging is dead. So is it any surprise that it is the writers who are holding on to it with their life. Blogging is perfect for writers. It is practice. We learn to get the word on the page. Then we get to see it in print. So easy, just a click on “Publish.” God, were that it were that easy otherwise. And we get feedback. Oh, the feedback. No sending one poem to a lit mag and waiting six months or longer for a form rejection. Nope, I’ve got my sister correcting my usage, some broad in Chicago telling me to buy expensive shoes, an Irish/Canadian/English reader to nitpick my spelling choices, a smut writer who calls me chickadee (I know, she calls everyone chickadee, but let me persist in my delusions of grandeur), and some Californian who thinks she can beat me in Words with Friends. What I’m saying is that the instant report (and rapport) feeds my lonely writer soul.