I am so stuck. Inside my head is an old phonograph. There is a recording on it playing at medium volume. It is “Rags to Riches”. I think it might be Tony Bennet singing. It is stuck in the groove and keeps saying, “My fate is up to. . . My fate is up to. . . My fate is up to.. .”
There is this thing about money. I have lived the kind of life that has taught me to enjoy money when you have it and don’t worry about it when you don’t. This lesson, learned by having the information shoved brutally down my throat, has not over ridden my natural tendency to be conservative, even in madness. But sometimes I wish I had enough money to fool around with. I would use it to help me figure stuff out. That would be why I would have it, the reason for having it. It would be frivolous, like buying a new winter parka when you already have a winter parka because I can figure stuff out on my own. But sometimes I don’t want to bother. That is where the money would come in handy–when I want to know something right away and don’t have the patience or the desire to figure it out myself. I would pay someone to figure it out for me.
I do not remember what set me off when I started to write my first novel. I do know I was manic and needed to be distracted from some stuff that was going on around me in my life, stuff I couldn’t dodge or hide. I don’t know why my attempts to distract myself took the form of writing. But one person somewhere said, “Crazy good read” about my first effort, and it was a male reading a kind of chick-lit type story, and that was it. I was sunk. I couldn’t stop. I can’t stop. But the needle is kind of stuck on that old phonograph record. It just needs a little nudge.
I seem to have taken on something that I cannot comprehend. I was unprepared for this and I cannot understand it. Maybe I don’t want to. I used to struggle to post on my blog. I used to blog surf just to see what was going on. I don’t remember why I started to blog or how I first heard there was such a thing, but this thing has taken on a life. Lately I have been feeling like all I have to do is walk by its cage every few days and throw it a piece of raw meat. Still, it is flattering. It is addicting. “Stats” are addictive. I just wish I knew what happened. Maybe I could transfer the knowledge to my Kindle works.
There was a certain blog that used to send me so many hits. Then they started to taper off. I knew why it was happening. I was down in the corner of her home page along with my picture and my link, saying I liked her blog and apparently she got lots of traffic. That started to taper off and I was a little worried. I even checked, and I was still down there in the corner. So maybe her traffic slowed down, but my blog traffic grew instead of dropping off.
Someone else I used to visit with blog-wise recently wondered who all these people are that follow her on twitter. I don’t know who these people are visiting my blog, but, hey, you guys, feel free to say hi and to come back when ever you want. I just kind of wish you were part of the book buying crowd.
Thanks for stopping by. Really!
Attribution of photo: Posted on razzarsharp.com by Doug B.