|Alas, I am not a leaf on the wind, my geekeje beloveds.|
Everything sprouts in front of my eyes.
B I am a barnacle.
I depend upon what floats by to sustain me.
C I am cottonwood fluff.
The breath of a starling can alter my course.
That sums up my life on the web.* To paraphrase: Branching paths, filtering, random influence.
I'm going to KidLit Con in Minneapolis, and I may return a better denizen of the web--a better, more useful blogger.
I've been floundering, to be honest. It was all fun and games two years ago when I aspired to be as the pumpkin. Now people are actually taking time to show up.
I know I don't want this blog to be about writing--there are many excellent sources of information about that. I am not an excellent source of information. I don't know any secret formulas. My efforts, like Hieronymous Bosch: On the Problem of Audience, aren't exactly actionable advice.
I also know that it can't really be a book review blog. It hurts my brain to even think about that. Many people are doing that brilliantly. I love them for it. I can't do it.
I don't want this to be a diary-found-on-a-bus-seat, either. It happens, like in my My Mother's Obituary.
But I'm being very stupid about this: The expert I really need to ask is you. What are you looking for when you come here? Do you ever find it?
* It takes some discipline not invent epithets D to Z. I'm an abecedarion at heart.