Writing this post on the blog first needed a break of habit. These days, my medium of choice for writing/blogging is Instagram, not the blog.
The blog deserved this post first, though. For it is the 19th birthday of the blog. I had no idea about what lay ahead when I wrote and published my first post on the blog that evening 19 years ago. Blogging was meant to be a lark. A time killer. A place to share my opinion on food. I did not expect it to lead to any of what followed, definitely not the life I have now.
I asked myself, in the run-up to number 19, whether it was a number worth getting excited about. I might have started the blog 19 years ago, but it is not core to my life as it once was. Then I realised I was being too pedantic about things. The blog started it all. It is not just the 19th birthday of the blog, Finely Chopped, but of ‘Finely Chopped’ per se. It has spawned everything I have had the opportunity to do since. Columns, a book, speaking and jury duties, restaurant review invites, making friends across the spectrum of the food world. My own channels—Instagram, YouTube, Twitter, Threads—are all named Finely Chopped. Perhaps one should expand the definition to 19 years of Finely Chopped and not just Finely Chopped the blog?
19 years is a long time. A lot has changed since then. Sticking to the old ways would be akin to being an actor from the silent era who refused to work on voice modulation when talkies began. Or a director who stuck to black-and-white films in a Technicolour world. Writing for Instagram first fosters brevity. This comes naturally to me now. Gone are the descriptive long copy that I revelled in. I have learnt to come to the point fast. I appreciate others who do so. We belong to an attention-starved generation. You can either adapt to it. Or fight it. Or pick your battles wisely.
Technology has made things easier. I type on my phone, though I am using my laptop today. This means I can type from anywhere and am not bound by ergonomics if I have a bad back, for example. Or want to write in a fight or while waiting somewhere. I have recently discovered that I can use ChatGPT as a reasonably accurate dictaphone if I talk into it. I can then copy this text into my Pages and edit it. This helps when I am tired, or have a backache, or have something to write without having the energy to type.
What about AI? I use ChatGPT to proofread and copy-edit now. This has removed a huge weight from my shoulders and has embellished the output.
I must admit that I enjoyed sitting at the desk and typing this post on the laptop. Without wondering if it would fit the Instagram caption length. Or whether this would translate into the dopamine hit of likes. Maybe I should get back to writing as if no one was watching, as I once did.
Or leave the introspection for now and just take in the fact that I have lasted for 19 years. And enjoyed them.
Happy birthday, Finely Chopped. Here’s to many more story-packed returns.
PS: Thanks for starting the blog K. I owe the life I lead to the two of you.
