Despite the widget above featuring three of my books, and the link on the side to my Amazon author page, etc. etc., most people stopping by this blog have no idea whatsoever that I write fiction. Nor do they care.
I get it. I know why you’re here. (I check my analytics almost as much as I check my book stats.)
Everyday at least some of you drop by because your dog just got a Cushing diagnosis (and those who do, will be happy to know that as of today, Maizie is still not dead). Some of you are writing papers on Jean Rhys’ much assigned short-story, I Used to Live Here Once, and in trying to ascertain the story’s theme, wound up at my post of the same name, which has nothing to do with the story, except that they both involve a sense of displacement and a return to a childhood home. A few of you are searching for information or possibly video of a certain geriatric adult performer who unfortunately shares a name with one of my loved ones. For shame!
The rest are mostly virtual acquaintances that I’ve met through various social networks, and a few people I actually know from real life.
This is all fine with me. Anyone and everyone is welcome. I want my blog to be someplace I can write or rant about whatever I feel like. The problem is this is bad for “marketing.” All the experts, say so.
I started the blog around the same time I made the decision to self-publish and the idea was it would somehow help me get in touch with readers. Every once in a while someone, who has actually read my fiction, will pop by and comment. This is always a thrill, but it’s rare. I get the problem — I’m supposed to have a brand. The blog is supposed to appeal to my “target” audience and I need to be able to put the theme of the blog into an elevator pitch. Eclectic doesn’t cut it.