After my post on BloggerCon yesterday (seconded by Atrios, Roger Ailes, Teresa Nielsen Hayden, and Elayne Riggs that I know about, and probably more — permalinks buggered on a couple of those, so you’ll have to scroll), I got an email from Christopher Lydon, who’s involved peripherally in some way and who’s very, very enthusiastic about blogging. He wanted to interview me for his blog, which at the moment mostly seems to consist of interviews with bloggers. I used to listen to his show on public radio from time to time, before he had some sort of falling out with the station that produced it, so against my better judgment I agreed. Nothing against Chris, who sounds like a very smart and thoughtful man. But (a) I hate interviews in general — I’m a pretty private guy in a semi-public profession, so it’s something I have to do (especially when I’m pushing a book), but it’s usually about as much fun as a visit to the proctologist — and (b) I just don’t have that much to say about blogging. (Afterthought: I know the blogging itself would seem to inherently contradict point (a), but the only way I can back up my case is to tell you about all the things I don’t write about, and because I’m a pretty private guy, I’m not going to do that. So you’ll just have to take my word for it, or not.)
Look, you kids know I love the blogs — read ’em, link to ’em, write one myself. But if you read this site, you also know I’m not as swept up in the triumphalist mentality, the sense that blogs are the next dot-com boom, except, well, without money. And midway through the interview, I realized I was being asked to opine on a subject I simply didn’t care much about. Blogs are a tool. I’m interested in specific writers, specific ideas. I don’t care about blogs as a concept. I mean — I like the Wacom drawing tablet I use just fine, but I wouldn’t want to spend forty five minutes talking about it in an interview, you know? It’s just a tool.
Interviews always leave me with a sense of morning-after remorse, but the interview on a subject in which I am only peripherally interested takes it one step further, leaves me feeling like I’m in the seventh grade and I just failed a pop quiz.