It's hard out here for a pimp

If you're a blogger and you want people to actually read your blog, and you probably do, or maybe you don't, or maybe you do and say you don't or vice-versa, blogging is not enough.

Our blog posts by themselves are but a sneeze on the upturned noggin of Cyberslovokia. If you want to turn the head of Master Internet, Mistress Interweb or Uncle Intergoogle, you also need to develop the skills of a public relations professional slash search engine optimization engineer. (Isn't that how it's listed on Monster daht cawm?) The whole kit and caboodle.

Unfortunately, I don't have a good head for business. In my perfect world, left to my own devices I would fully submerge myself in the universal spring of creativity. I'd cover myself with mayonnaise and glitter, put on a beret, take a big swig of pumpkin butter and think my most private thoughts at you with my mind.

Sound terrifying? That's because it is. This is why things are set up the way they are. To keep us from turning into characters from Easy Rider. And, via the accountability borne of sharing freely what once belonged to us alone, to occasionally save us from ourselves. Plus, it ain't easy gettin' glitter out of your belly button.

Just to keep things decent, and bloggers civilized, we must also promote ourselves. That's why we're in your faces, irritating you like gnats up the nostril, networking and neck-licking like debutantes in a Miss Fancy Nosegay contest.

These days I blog to hone my craft and connect with people who entertain and inspire, laugh with me, and help me make sense of the world. I am discovering amazing people with shared interests who can and do introduce me to resources that will help me to realize my potential as a writer. I don't know how to do this by myself, nor do I want to. So I blog, comment on other blogs, and poke around inside your head. It's you that I want. You are the reason I'm here.

It took me a while to realize that.

That said, oh the horror, I created a Facebook Fan Page today. OUCH! Every time I say it God drops a giant iron anvil on my head. (Hmm... I wonder if I can absorb iron via the wound and put my cast iron skillet to rest... but I digress...) Who the heck am I to be creating a FAN page? Fan pages are for Roddy McDowall, not for regular, everyday folks like yours truly. You have Anne to blame. 'Twas her post about de-cluttering your sidebar that inspired the idea.

Please know that, despite what Dave Doolin might say if he had a really bad headache and a twisted ankle, I really don't think too much of myself. (Dave, I couldn't resist teasing. You know I am fond of you. Not in a creepy or inappropriate way, though. Not in the way I am fond of Jannie Funster. Ooh, come to Feather Heather, Jannie, ooh, that's it... bring the poodle, oh yeeees... )

In any case, I'm hoping it's a smart move that will help me to discover who among my friends is interested in my writing, so I may leave the rest in peace before they hire a hit man, and to develop new contacts in the writing world from which I may learn.

Hopefully, eventually I will be able to help others as well. If I ever get good at this writing business you can rest assured I will be thrilled to help other hungry budding writers like myself. (I was going to say hungry young writers, but, lol, yeah I know.)

How about you? Do you have a Facebook Fan Page? If so, please leave a link in the comments section below so that I may become your Fan. I'm probably already your fan, so let's make it official.