So I was going to write a book and this was going to be the title. I've got about 250 pages written, much of it with the same slippery hold on reality that is listed in the stories previous. And so, there are a few points that have come to mind as I begin this new blog...
I am not a recovering idiot. The word recovering needs to be excised. The only reason I initially decided to use that particular phrase was to attract a larger segment of the population to buy my book, namely recovering alcoholics. Since the standard introductory phrase at AA meetings is similar to my title, I figured I could sell more books, mostly to alcoholics.
As I said, I'm not recovering because I just keep doing the same dumb things. I like to cheat death, play the long shot, see how far I can peer over the edge, pump the adrenalin, stuff like that. Why, after all these years of hanging out there, I would do a little trick like try to make it to the airport with an impossible time line is beyond me.
So the night before last, I posted my first post on here. I was immediately pleasantly surprised by the response and so I went crazy with more posts yesterday. Not good. I know a good performer needs to leave his audience wanting more. Instead, I threw everything but the kitchen sink at you. I made the posts too long, I think.
Not only did I shoot too many shells, but I put my wife in her eye rolling mode. I mean, I spent the day talking about hits and stats and monetizing and ad clicks and comments and followers and links, terms that only really savvy computer guys like myself can wrap their mouse around. She got sick of it. By the eve, she was demanding that I quit it. I tried but every time I got out of her field of vision, I couldn't help myself. I jumped on the comp to see the burgeoning readership.
The only problem was we have this computer that makes a big electronic symphonic-type musical noise every time you bring it out of the safe mode. Then, when you click to bring the browser up, it does it again! Therefore, she was instantly alerted every time I checked the stats. Michele is normally a music lover but she couldn't get into the tones last evening. Conjugally speaking, it wasn't the best of nights.
Things got even worse as we crawled into bed. I often have trouble sleeping when I'm working on a new invention or trying to figure out how I'm going to-- CRASH!!.........
STORY POST VAULT--thanks & enjoy!
- ▼ January (5)