Laura Bradford over at the Good Girls site, wonders about fans and what hooks them, whether readers of Romantic poetry or followers of that American Idol hair guy.
I'm more interested in those things that keep us humble. Being married works. Nothing can puncture an over-inflated sense of self-importance like a wife with a good memory.
A few years ago a young man posted a nice mention about Beneath A Panamanian Moon* on his blog and I responded with a thanks. He immediately went into fan stammer, astonished that an actual author would post on his blog. I wanted to tell him that he shouldn't be in such awe, that I begin every day of my life picking up dog turds, but I didn't. Why ruin the kid's illusions. That'll happen soon enough without my help.
True story: I went to get my hair cut, coincidentally on the same day I'd finished writing a novel. As I sat in the chair the barber asked how I was doing and I said, "I only get to say this once every year or two, so I hope you won't think I'm bragging, but I finished a book today."
He said, "Oh, yeah? What are you reading?"
Of course, reading better books than mine, and they are legion, will keep me humble, but it's the day-to-day that does it best. I'm curious, what is it in your life that keeps you grounded, especially as you meet gushing fans or get glowing reviews?
Because any time I get too full of myself, I always have my dogs, eager to produce instant indignity at a moment's notice.
Talk to me.
*Speaking of keeping me humble, my Amazon ranking for BAPM this morning is 1,625,350. Ouch.
6 comments:
I work with computers all day. Sometimes the computers win; sometimes I win.
But the computers never do anything that makes people think they'd been secretly lobotomized. I wish I could say that.
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Whenever I start to think I'm a cool hip happening technogeek, I learn that you're only hip if you "twitter"--something I heard about for the first time last week.
And Twitter started over a year ago.
Elizabeth,
I have absolutely no idea what twitter, aside from being an onomatopoeic description of bird vocalizations, is.
There are a few things that bring me brief humility, but nothing permenantly; absolutely nothing. We're all the same. If you ever wrote one published word, you still harbor feelings that you were put here for a higher purpose as yet to be achieved... I find changing a diaper or trimming a house cat's toenails to be particularly humbling and of longer lasting humility than many other humbling experiences.
Dread
PS I work with a couple of twits. I'll ask them what twittering is, although I have suspicions.
Dread
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