There is something wrong with me. I said I wasn’t going to check my referrers on this site, but I’ve gone and made it so I can anyway. I can get addicted to anything, including how many hits I get. Perhaps I’m a masochist. In fact, I am a masochist.
In a sense, blogging is a dangerous artform for the easily addicted. Instant gratification. You can see your readers evolve. It’s an amazing window--it feels very good every time I find that someone has stopped by. There’s no chance that I could sell 100 books a day, but a hundred hits is not impossible. "Hits" may just be the right word.
Overall, blogging has been a great experience. It’s one of those things we might take for granted because it exists. Everyone having the ability to self-publish. I always dreamed of becoming a successful enough writer that I might have my own column which people would read and trust my opinions. Sort of my "Notes of a Dirty Young Man." A lot of ideas and writing have been lost while I waited to be successful. No telling if people will trust my opinions, but it really doesn’t matter. There’s always the possibility that they might. I have hoped for overnight success for too long. It’s time to get writing.
I’ve also put up links to books on Amazon. It seems a little odd to try to make money off of other people’s work, but I gotta make money somehow. I’m certainly not going to make any money off my own books. And I can point people towards some good writing. Judging by the number of referrers I’m getting, money probably won’t be much of an issue. Deprecating. I still have the ambitious dreams of an editor coming by the site and thinking, finally, there’s our man. Some habits won’t die.
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