I looked outside today. It was a writer’s worst nightmare.
It was a beautiful day.
The sun was shining. Birds were chirping. Bees were buzzing around and not stinging my penis (I often write naked).
When I first started this blog, I had a goal of writing a hundred posts. To many of you out there, this is a laughably low number of articles. My goal was to keep the writing on the subject of bathroom books, humor and the body, and promote my book—and in the process carve out a piece of the internet with www.bestbathroombooks.com as the beneficiary. Early on someone told me they liked my blog but the website sucked. I agreed, and still have plans to upgrade it. Thanks for your support.
I wanted the majority of the posts to be funny (unlike this one) and I wanted to make myself laugh. I wrote lots of them in the tone of an A-hole, because I think condescension and indignation are funny, especially when the writer’s/speaker’s voice is unaware of what an A-hole he is.
I did not understand, at the outset, the culture of the blogosphere (or how to spell bloggoshpere). I could not understand how people interacted and cared so much for virtual strangers. Lots of things confuse me, like why people go to fast-food restaurants and eat triple cheeseburgers with bacon.
But then, I’m from California.
So, as I started writing and trying to make myself laugh, I collected followers. I subscribed to a bunch of bloggers I thought were talented and still enjoy their writing and ideas. I learned that the title of the blogpost is paramount, sex sells and that the subject matter is less important. A little post that leaves plenty of room for feedback usually–but not always– trumps something longer, even if it’s better written. People are busy, and eliciting a quick quip or punny reaction moves the delete button a little closer to cleaning out the ol’ email basket.
I didn’t understand at the beginning of all this that the culture is personal, and people like to hear and express their innermost feelings. I made a vague commitment to NOT write and address blogging techniques, ask questions or solicit comments or write pieces that I thought couldn’t pretty much stand on their own as something to promote the business.
But I was working in the ‘sphere, and the culture is difficult to work in without making personal connections of some sort or other. Despite my haranguing of bloggers and their insular lives, I actually—despite my commitment not to—ended up liking a lot of people (albeit, people who I still can’t bring myself to believe actually exist in any real sense of the word).
So now I’m up to 90 posts. I have ten more to write, and the sun is shining outside. My contractor son is hot to build or remodel. My edu-political daughter’s air con is failing and we need to address that. My wife has been patient through the process of this blog, but I know she’s looking forward to having my full attention and my eyeballs pried from the glowing screen. She’s one of those gazelles who likes reality.
I absolutely believe there are amazingly talented people out there, and I will read and steal from you as much as I possibly can from now until my laptop breaks or I go back to Yosemite to live with the bears.
So, before your sun goes down on me, I’d like to thank everyone who was paying attention to any of these posts. I have ten more to write, and I will make sure I use the words poop, penis, vagina and erections in most of them. I might even throw in a hemorrhoid if you’re lucky. Then, as my goal is finally reached, I can remember all the people who I knew in the WP World of Pixels, and maybe, someday, we will meet again in heaven, where all the real people live.