It’s all about me


When this blog was first created, it was because of my books.

There was no way, I was told, a writer could succeed in today’s market without a web and social media presence.

Fair enough, but even back then I made sure there were no illusions about my blog. From the choice of its name to numerous self-referential posts, I continued to be clear that the blog would not be about my writing; would not be about social media or marketing; would not, in fact, be about anything at all.

Except me. All times, every time.

Certainly, when I’m writing, most of my posts are going to be about writing or the writing business. And also certainly, when I’m doing something dramatic, like my GNABRT, I will spend the entire time (two and a half months) on that one subject.

But, generally, it’s just going to be what it claims: random ramblings from a personal point of view. As such, it was never going to be the type of blog to attract hundreds of followers and thousands of readers. Fair enough again.

Now that the selfless part of the holiday season is over, I’m feeling motivated to use the last week in the year to expunge some mental dross via the expedient tool of this blog.

The posts will be intensely personal and probably unflattering. They will also likely be not the least bit entertaining.

So, in respect to those of you who read this blog regularly, I offer this caution: If you would like to keep your illusions about the blog or me, you should consider skipping this week and coming back next year. Otherwise, feel free to feel uncomfortable in a week of virtual catharsis.

Either way, it won’t make a difference what you choose, since this week is all about me.

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