Looks like I missed my own blog’s two-month birthday! Do you mind if I gush briefly anyway? (If you prefer, go twiddle your thumbs somewhere instead and come back when I post something more meaty. No hard feelings.)
Lately I’ve been marveling at how writing here has been unexpectedly expanding my experience (haha, say that three times fast) in other arenas. When I created this space I mostly just wanted a butterfly net to capture the thoughts Owlet and Platypup had been constantly generating within me but were not yet old enough to receive. Preggo/mommy brain had been leaving me rather inarticulate in real life and I wanted to share those musings with friends and family and even a few strangers. I’d also been feeling a bit one-sided and relished the opportunity to track other mental pursuits unrelated to mothering. But somehow I pictured it all happening in a vacuum, in my little nook of the internet called Word Winding.
What I didn’t expect:
– The very day I opened my blog up to the world, the 15th person to “like” me was the lady behind The Leaky Boob. (I had sent humble little tendrils via Facebook to a handful of my favorite bloggers.) I squealed like a Beatles fan and may have awakened one or more small children in the vicinity. My blitheringly sophomoric status update included the following choice phrases: “Ok, major nerd-meets-semi-celebrity-in-cyberspace moment” and “Well, color me giddy as a schoolgirl.”
– She was the first, but not the only — three of my favorite bloggers have, also: Mama Raw, The Single Crunch, and The Hands Free Revolution. I am truly honored and cannot recommend their work to you highly enough.
– Patrick Rothfuss liked my review of his amazing book The Name of the Wind. I mean, of course he would, because I pretty much hand him an award for best writer ever, but still. He took the time (probably out of writing the third book, sorry everyone for delaying its release another four and a half minutes) to read it, reply, say he really liked it, and ask for permission to share it. Recommence shrieking scene described above. Perhaps with bells on. You know, the velco kind you attach to your baby’s flailing limbs. Or am I the only one who does that?
Of course I love the heady feeling I get when someone whose writing I’ve admired likes mine back, but more than that I love the connection.
This is extending away from my blog and into other “virtual” interactions. Recently I sent a brief email to author Debora Geary (review coming soon, I promise) to let her know about a couple typos in her latest book since it had just that day been released on Kindle. I almost never do things like that, but thought maybe there was an easy way to correct it since it was a digital format. Typos are like toothpicks in my brain, and she’s too delightful of an author to have her work marred needlessly if I could ride in on my gallant steed and rescue the situation. She thanked me, which was nice of her, and that was that… until a little over a week later when out of nowhere she wrote again to offer me what she called “an informal proofreading gig.” Um, you mean, instead of me buying your book, you’ll pay me to read it? Yeah, I think that’d be ok…
The point is not to brag. That’s just a side perk. Feel free to slap me for bragging. The point is this: I used to come for the story only, whether to blogs or to books. Despite knowing a few spectacular authors in real life — and loving the extra nuance my personal knowledge brought to their already impressive work — I’d still been buffered from the rest of the world’s writers without realizing it. In starting my own humble blog I have somehow inadvertently sliced through that not-so-impenetrable barrier to the creators behind the words. I have no illusions about “actually” knowing these people as friends (yet! haha… I will try not to stalk these worthy wordsmiths, but I do not promise to succeed). Still, these connections are way more nourishing than my old impersonal, one-way, glazed-eyes speed-reading. It’s refreshing, just as two minutes on the phone with a friend is refreshing compared with any amount of Facebook scrolling.
And now for some recent stats:
– My own sister was rather late to the party as the 50th liker. She’ll never live it down! Relentless teasing shall be hers.
– Five of the last eight people to “like” Word Winding are strangers… or soon-to-be friends? Welcome aboard!