Next week marks my eighth-month Red Room Anniversary. (Is it emeralds or sapphires for the eighth month? I forget. Either are accepted with gratitude as long as they are conflict-free.) I have finally achieved the 100-comments club and (by my count) should be included in the 100-blog-a-sphere soon. My separate clicks are over10,000 and I’ve made friends and read astounding things in what was formerly for me the dearth of cyberspace.
But the most wonderful and selfish thing is that someone is reading me in the morning. Oh, you know who you are, please don’t deny it. Is it a guilty pleasure? I hope it is a pleasure, not an enforced penance, not a critique to improve your own work from my failings. Every morning, my scoreboard shows further forays. These daily numbers are mounting and I discover my own guilty pleasure. “Yes!” I am being read and dare I hope enjoyed. There are comments on excerpts, positive comments that I grasp in a handshake to crush your fingers. (I do have a remarkable grip for a woman; after all I am an artist and I do manual work.)
But, cautious readers, I don’t want to scare you away, overwhelm you with my neediness. Before coming to Red Room I never before understood the desire for fame, never understood why Meryl sought another movie, another Oscar. Surely she could laze in the sun or garden in the south of France. Now, ah ha! I get it! I feel with every blog the need for comment, for contact. No one liked it? What did I do wrong? I am worthless, I should work at McDonald’s. Then suddenly the inbox shows that Yes! Someone GOT it. Someone laughed, cried, danced on the tables, and my world makes sense once again.
I appreciate how much time is given each comment, the response, the subsequent reply. I hope most of you are answering from fancy gadgetry I have yet to personally experience, because my own butt has become calloused from perching at the edge of this damn chair at this wretched desk, while spring awaits just outside. Friends and neighbors, I am thrilled and flattered that you have read me. I am experiencing a Sally Field moment of “They really like me.”
So here’s to the future. Thanks for reading. Thanks for writing. Thanks for commenting. And thanks for being there.
Causes Mara Buck Supports
Kennebec Valley Humane Society, Amnesty International