He encontrado un artículo muy interesante, titulado Vampires of the Internet que relaciona los blogs y los escritores, el tiempo que le dedicamos a cada cosa, cómo cae un escritor en los blogs y la diferencia entre blogguear y escribir.
Dejad de lado el miedo al inglés y leedlo completo aquí, porque realmente merece la pena.
Algunos fragmentos:

Her letter was brief. It said she had finally caved in to reader pressure and was going to keep a blog. I was immediately struck with a lurch of dread. Not another one. Not another writer falling to the ever insatiable Live Journal and the tawdry lure of the blog!
In the next moment, my conscience smote me. I was abandoning her to her fate. Yet didn’t I deserve at least part of the blame for her fall? Oh, my dear young writer, didn’t anyone tell you that Live Journal is actually where the Living Dead of the writing world are created?

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Daily you will rise and go to your keyboard. You will blog. And you will read what people write in response to your blog. And you will write responses to what they have written. And then you will visit the blogs of those who have responded to you. And you will write pleasant and cheery comments there. And then you will go back to your own blog, to see if anyone has responded to your responses.

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The blogs there will grow fat and swollen, round bellied with the creativity they have siphoned off from your fingertips.And when night falls, you will think that you have been a writer today.
My dear friend, writer of writers, esteemed teller of tales that no one else can tell, beware! Blogging is not writing. It masquerades as such, t’is true. You sit at the desk, your fingers dance their blind and clever dance across the keyboard, words appear upon the screen, and oh, it feels like writing, like the easiest sort of writing, the writing that needs not to be justified on the morrow.

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Ah, my writer friend. It is harsh but it must be said. Compared to the studied seduction of the novel, blogging is literary pole dancing. Anyone can stand naked in the window of the public’s eye, anyone can twitch and writhe and emote over the package that was not delivered, the dinner that burned, the friend who forgot your birthday. That is not fiction. That is life, and we all have one. Blogging condemns us to live everyone else’s tedious day as well as our own.
Oh, my dearest writer friend. Be strong. Resist the siren call.

Don’t blog. Write.

Pero es que las sirenas son tan tentadoras…