Twenty minutes to bedtime

And here is the first blog…a rant about trying to put a blog together to promote…well, before I started with this insanity, I would have said my book.  As I make my way through the machinations of what is evidently marketing, I find that the true product is really myself.  As a first-time writer, it seems such an odd notion, because I’ve invested time into my craft, which is writing, and that’s what I want to promote.  My mastery of words.  My handling of plot and theme and scope.  My vision of the world as it is, and what I imagine it to be when the mood strikes me.  The time I’ve invested into myself…well, is it any different than the time others invest in themselves?  I mean, really, this is a lifelong endeavor, investing time in yourself and the end result–at least in an ideal world–is just another person trying to get through the day, perhaps with a little dignity and grace.  And yet, they tell me–the “they” that lurk in the many virtual crevices of the Internet–is that the ultimate product is the author himself…which brings me back to square one.  The purpose of this blog.  The focus and the direction.  As I promote my book, I’m marketing myself, and I wonder, what is there to know?  I’m writing, and I love it.  I love everything about it, but mostly just the complete and total sense of control that I feel when I let my little thoughts spill onto the page…and as such, I want to share my words and my world with everyone and everything…

What is it  that one needs to know?  I’m a writer, damnit, and I write.  And now I’m off to bed.



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