When I stop to think about it, I realize how odd blog-writing is….
These last several months of posting haven’t been that strange for me. I’ve had years of practice writing a weekly humor column in the local paper. For nearly a decade I’ve told stories, given bad advice, and generally tried to make people laugh.
This blog is kind of like those columns.
Also, when I was growing up, I always loved it when the books had author’s notes in the back. Not just a little one-paragraph blurb. But a real message from the author to the reader. I thought that was the coolest thing, getting a little glimpse into their lives.
I like to think that this blog is kind of like those notes, too.
The blog is other things too: It’s a way for me to spread book-related news to those of you who give a care. It’s an easy, if rather unscientific, way to gather information. It also allows me to give some writing advice to people who are interested, though I’ll admit, I haven’t had much time for an “ask the author” blog lately. I should do one of those soon.
But recently, I’ve been wondering about the blog. What troubles me is this:
Though I am a liar by profession, I like to think of myself as a fundamentally honest person. Painfully honest, some people have said. But recently I’ve come to realize that the picture I’ve painted here is a somewhat dishonest portrayal of myself and my life.
It started months ago when I had a bad day and I thought about writing about it in the blog. Then I thought to myself, “Pat, people don’t come to your blog to listen to you bitch and moan about your sad life.”
“But I tell them about other stuff,” I protested. “Why shouldn’t I mention this?”
“Because they come here for news or for laughs, not so you can get all weepy on them.”
I realized I had a pretty good point, so I decided to keep quiet. Once I made that decision, it was fairly easy to abide by it. And lord knows there’s certainly been enough cool news lately so that I haven’t been scraping for stuff to post.
But over the last several weeks I’ve come to realize the other side of this. Sure I’m keeping it light and entertaining. But by only posting when I have cool news or a joke to make, it looks like my life is some sort of happily-ever-after, candy mountain place constructed entirely of rainbows and orgasmic bliss.
But this just isn’t the case. Things are not all sunshine and roses in Patland. I have bad days too.
Don’t get me wrong, life is pretty good. Hell, after all these years, my book is in print and people like it. That’s the top of the mountain, things don’t get any better than that.
But shit still happens. Today I bounced a check for the first time in ten years. Cost me fifty bucks and make me feel like an idiot incapable of performing simple math. Instead of leaving my credit union with money in my pocket, I left knowing my account balance was -2.56 even after depositing the whole check I’d gone in to cash. I didn’t even have enough to bring my balance up to zero.
Later on, I went to the coffee place and after I’ve ordered, I see the sign that says they don’t take credit cards. And of course I don’t have any money. So I have to explain that I can’t actually pay….
Then I come home and I see that on Amazon someone posted a one-star review of NOTW. That means my average dropped just enough for me to lose my perfect 5-star status, which I was unreasonably proud of. Then I feel like a dink for even caring about something like that. But I go on being irritated even though I know it’s silly, and that makes me even more irritated….
That’s the reality of things. I have money troubles. I make bad choices. I get pissed off for no good reason. It’s stupid how a few relatively small things can just wear you down.
It used to be that when I had a day like this I’d call my mom. I’d tell her about the one-star review and she’d be pissed. She’d go online and read it and just seethe about how the person was a total ass, and probably a half wit too. She’d be furious on my behalf, and I’d explain that it wasn’t really that big a deal (which it isn’t) and it would be off my chest and over with. It was enough to know that she was looking out for me, even if only to protect me from one-star reviewers.
You see, that’s the main thing that I’ve avoided talking about on here for months now. Months and Months. Normally if something big happens to me, I tell stories about it. It’s how I’m built. But I’ve been keeping that particular piece of story under wraps for a while now. Not only has it made me feel dishonest, but it really goes against my nature.
The thing is, my mom died a little while back, just a few weeks before the book came out.
She was great. I wish you all could have met her, and I’m sure most of you would have if she were still around. She’d be on here reading your posts, calling me on my bullshit, and telling stories. She would have gotten such a kick out of all the attention the book has been getting lately. The movie talk. All the foreign deals….
The Quill award. Oh man, she would have been unstoppable with a piece of news like that. She’d be telling strangers on the street. Moms don’t have to be modest so she would have been bragging all over the place. I’d be embarrassed about it, of course, but knowing that she was being excited on my behalf would mean that I’d feel better about just being calm and happy about the news. Sometimes it’s not that much fun being excited about your own stuff.
She didn’t miss all of it. She got to have some fun with NOTW. She read the galley and saw the printed versions before she went. She was around for some of the initial cool news: the first few foreign sales, some of the movie talk. She was so proud of it even then, before it even hit the shelves, even before it ever had an agent or a publisher. She referred to it as her “grandbook.”
I tell you though. I’d set these books on fire if I could have her back healthy and happy for one good week. Fuck. Some days I’d trade it for a good fifteen minutes.
What’s my point? Hell. I have no idea. If I had a point when I started writing this, I’ve long since forgotten it. I certainly didn’t sit down tonight with the intention of writing about my mom….
I think I mostly just wanted to let the cat out of the bag. I generally live my life with policy of full disclosure, and it was feeling increasingly weird keeping mentions of such a big part of my life out of these blog posts. I prefer to keep my lies and editing for my books. My life I just like to live and share.
Tell you what though. Let’s not have a big sympathy fest in the comments section. I’m not looking for a pity party. Aside from the occasional bad day where I can’t seem to do anything but miss her, I’m doing pretty good. I’m doing pretty good right now, actually. I feel better than when I started writing this. Which might be the moral of the story.
You be happy too, okay? As for me, I’m going to go eat a cookie and go to bed.
Maybe two cookies.
Fondly,
pat
Today, I suck at life….
My star seems to be in ascension. A couple days ago I got a super cool review on NPR. As if that wasn’t cool enough, superhero librarian Nancy Pearl is the one doing the reviewing and recommending.
If you don’t know who Nancy Pearl is, you should. And you know that any librarian with her own action figure is a force to be reckoned with…
If that weren’t enough, I also recently got wind of a review in Science Fiction and Fantasy Magazine. Michelle West wrote such a flattering, descriptive, spoiler free review discussion of the book that I realize I will probably never have much luck being a reviewer myself. I don’t think I have the knack.
Anyway, my point is that things were looking pretty rosy moving into today. Two embarrassingly good reviews, my student’s tests were graded, and my amazon rank was ridiculously high (#240). I was half convinced that the local woodland creatures were going to wake me up, sing me a song, and help me get dressed for school — Cinderella style.
Because they didn’t show, I had to find my own socks and consequently I was running a little late. So I drove onto campus and found a spot right in front of the building. It even had 20 free minutes on the meter. Better and better.
Then I end up having a disagreement with the local photocopier. I want to make copies of the grading rubric for my class. The machine wants to take a big old shit on my day.
Ultimately the machine wins. It even manages the trifecta by denying me my copies, devouring the one and only copy of the rubric, and making me five minutes late to my own class.
Everything went downhill from there. The class was a trainwreck. Because dealing with the photocopier took all of my class prep time, I looked disorganized and clueless. I wrote all over the dry-erase board with a big bright red non-dry erase marker. (Not my fault, someone left it there.) I looked like an idiot several times and some of the students actually were talking to each other and laughing at me.
Lastly, toward the end of the class I said something in response to a student’s comment that was meant to be a general statement for the class, but I think was interpreted as me being bitchy at that student. *sigh* I don’t know.
It’s strange how quickly your day can turn to shit. In some ways it’s even worse because everything else was really good before that. If you spend the day picking up dogshit it’s not going to be a great time, but at least you know what you’re in for. You’re braced for it. It’s different if you’re just having a picnic and someone hits you in the face with a turd.
And with that lovely image, I will leave you. Hope your day is going better than mine.
Best,
pat
P.S. 204. That helps a bit.