On a recent blog post about setting up an e.mail-based feed to go with the RSS feeds, a visitor left the following comment:
Hmm. I guess the limericks aren't doing it for you, eh? I'm not surprised. Even for folks that like poetry, limericks are an acquired taste.
On the one hand, I guess I should feel pretty good about this comment. It began with love, and is as gently phrased as it could be. Wrapped up in this comment is the belief that I'm potentially worth listening to. Perhaps this is for amusement, insight, wisdom, or just for technical instruction on how to set up auto-crossposting of your blog posts to Facebook and Twitter. Regardless, it's nice to know that some of my content is well-received.
On the other hand...
Look, you can't say I didn't warn you, OK? Over on the left hand side of the blog, in that "Welcome Visitor" widget that nobody ever reads, it begins with: "This is my writing blog, which means you'll find fiction (short, medium and long), thoughts, ideas, experiments and other grammatically correct prose." What I mean by that is you should expect to see fiction (short, medium and long), thoughts, ideas, experiments and other grammatically correct prose. I didn't say anything about my poetry, since I try to keep that to a minimum, as a public service.
Sometimes my blog posts are about specific subjects related to writing, sometimes not. The most popular thing I've ever written was advice on how to use Twitter to maximum effect, but I wrapped it up in a rant that was, you guessed it, all about me.
How come I talk about me so much on this blog? I'll avoid the obvious answer and instead try to be more thoughtful. Because I'm not the New York Times, committed to a one-way flow of factual, dispassionate information. Hell, I'm not even the New York Times Review of Books, which is 100% erudite and artfully expressed opinion.
I'm not a Chuck Wendig who can dispense terrific inspirational kick-in-the-pants writing advice, or a John Scalzi, who can do the same thing with less profanity and more pictures of dogs, cats, sunsets and Hugo and Nebula awards from years past. I'm not a Jane Friedman who can share loads of publishing advice from years and years of successful activity in the biz.
Who am I?
Vell, I'm just zis guy, you know?
I promise, when I have a book out, I'll set up a website which will be all about that book, and nothing but. It'll have character bios, pictures, excerpts, polls, giveaways, live webchats, the whole nine yards. Until then, though, you get me in all my flawed glory, and this blog, ditto. That's not enough for some of you, too much for others. What can I say? I'm trying not to take this comment too seriously, but I tend to take everything too seriously.
To finish this post, I was going to open the comments for suggestions about what you'd like to see me post about instead. However, as this is clearly one of those posts about ME, I'll do a separate one that can be about YOU.
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