Everyone says the best way to draw readers is to talk about yourself.
In theory, this is my blog, about me, about my writing and my progress as a writer. I mean, most people do well with finding that niche and writing to it. So what better place to talk about all the things on my mind then this blog?
Except… I don’t feel free to do that here.
It’s not that I don’t feel welcomed to open up. Actually many people I respect usually make mention of me in connection to my candid posts. I’ll pop out a chatty post or two every so often because I need to lay it on the line, so to speak. I just don’t feel like that’s what this place is to me though.
I’ve done the bare my soul on my blog bit. That led to my discovery and my blog life and real life colliding in a nasty way.
I’m not sure I feel comfortable talking about my (increasingly rare) exploits. What’s to say that someone else hasn’t touched on? I’m not a sex blog in the true sense of the word so most of the time I’m not sure my place here. My life isn’t angsty or interesting right now.
So I write stories. Fantasies laced with truth. Fictionalized reality. I can write, I know how to weave a tale. I no longer know how to talk about my life.
I started a vanilla blog. Mostly about work and my feelings related to that part of myself. It’s as candid as I can get, but tame compared to this place.
Which is the real, honest me?
Neither, both… It mirrors my life pretty accurately. I can’t say who I’m being totally me with anymore.
I wish I could say I could talk about whatever here. The jealousy I feel about ridiculous things, my inadequacies, my frustrations with the blog, my worries, or the aspects of my sexuality and spirituality I still haven’t sorted out. I can’t though because I still don’t believe anyone wants to hear it. I don’t think anyone cares. Fact, not being whiny.
To be truthful, if you read my stories, you’re getting me at my most honest. It goes back to not feeling like it’s noticed. The room is full and I’m standing to the side. Of course I’m wearing and saying the right stuff, but no one cares about that because everyone else is wearing and saying the right things, too.
What I’m trying to say is… Sometimes I feel like I’m falling on deaf ears.
Then there’s just not much else left to say, is there?
I couldn’t resist that photo. Kinda makes me laugh.