One of These Things is Not Like The Other...

I'm still not used to this whole bloggy blog business. In my head, it goes kind of like this:

  Me: I should post something. I haven't posted anything in a while, and the whole point of a blarg is to post things.

Voice of Reason: Probably. 

Me: But I have nothing to say, and I shouldn't post things unless I have actual content worth babbling about, right? I don't want to bore people with drivel.

Voice of Reason: If you wait for meaningful content, you will never post anything. 

Me: That's not very nice. True, yes, but not nice. It just seems silly, I guess. There are actual good blogs out there by people who form entertaining essays about Important Things so why should I distract from that with my babble?

Voice of Reason: I honestly have no idea. Are you going to eat that yogurt, or not?

Me: Yes, but I'll share it with you.

I have lots of conversations like this one, which is why I shouldn't be left alone for too long or else I get a little funny. And not "ha ha" funny if you know what I mean.

I'm not trying to be self deprecating. I like what I write. I just didn't really expect that enjoyment to be contagious. (But I am so glad that it is.) Besides this bloggy business, I've had some very kind reviews and now I'm even short-listed for a few awards. This leaves me both grateful and confused and I keep waiting for someone to make a correction--to go, "Oh, wait, we didn't mean that book, we meant this one over there." Clearly, someone, somewhere made a mistake. I'm kind of hoping no one corrects it, because right now I feel like I'm getting away with something.

Like this week, someone emailed me to let me know that I was short-listed for the PNBA awards. This is very exciting. I mean, look at the other people that have won this thing. That's a heady list, friends. And look at the other books short-listed. They all appear very deep and moving. In fact, when you look at all the descriptions and titles, and then you look at mine, it kind of looks like a literary game of, "One of these things is not like the other, one of these things is not the same..." Like with the blogs, it feels like they are writing about Important Things while I'm making werewolf jokes. 

This is about the time that I realize that my mental processes are falling victim to genre snobbery. It's easy for me to steer clear of this when it's someone else's book. If you try to tell me one of my favorite authors is lesser because they write fantasy or humor, I will defend them to the death. Good writing can happen in any genre, just like bad writing can pop up anywhere. I just have a hard time seeing it when it applies to me. Which, I guess, is normal. I'm still getting used to the whole author gig. 

It's amazing to know that other people enjoy what you do. I mean, I'd be writing this stuff even if no one was reading it, but it's awesome the hear that other people enjoy it, too. Like these people. To be lumped in with a few of my favorite authors? Sweet deal. Now I'm positive someone has made a mistake. But until they clear it up, I'm going to enjoy it and say thank you.

So, thank you. I am freakishly grateful to you all for reading my stuff.