It’s not that I don’t love you all, each and every one of you. My readers, my fellow writers, all of you. Because I do.
And it’s not that I don’t appreciate you thinking of me when these things come up. Really. Because the idea that someone out there finds me interesting enough to want to know what I had for breakfast (I never eat breakfast), or what my ten favorite songs are, or how many pairs of socks I own, or my deepest secrets, or whatever you want to think of, is immensely flattering. I swear it is.
It’s not even that I don’t sometimes appreciate the ideas for stuff to blog about, because I do run out of things sometimes. Especially times like now, when Big Things are happening in the WIP and I am totally creatively empty everywhere else. So it’s nice to think, Oh, I’ll just do x meme, and that won’t take long.
Except that it usually does. Because honestly, if you’ve been reading here for more than a few months, you already know so much about me that to expose myself further would involve actual nudity. Which is never gonna happen, even if I have lost 24 pounds in the last seven months or so and am now feeling very svelte and attractive again.
So I sit and think, and think, and think, and before I know it I’ve spent an hour staring at the screen trying to think of ways to make myself actually sound interesting, as opposed to bullshitting my way through the list with stuff like “My favorite color for my fingernails is silver, but my toes are usually red” or “I hate the taste of lamb and never eat it” (That last one took me five minutes, I’m not joking.) Or maybe “I had a terrible nightmare the other night that gave me a great idea for a new book” or “Mt favorite scene from a sci-fi movie is the blood test scene in The Thing, because that shit is awesome.”
Or maybe it’s that page 123 of the book I’m currently reading says:
“They never really seem to feel anything. For example, Gossett disappears, apparently eaten by an alligator, and the most Norris can work up is a case of vexation. Anderson seems to be in the movie mostly so that Norris has someone to drag out of danger.
There are, of course, the obligatory karate fights, in which Norris flies through the air and aims his magic heels at the villains, killing or disabling dozens of them.”
–From Roger Ebert’s review of “Firewalker”, in the book “I Hated, Hated, Hated This Movie”, by Roger Ebert.
Okay? So look, if you want to tag me that’s fine. But really, all it does is make me feel guilty, because chances are I won’t do it. And I won’t tag anyone else. It’s like getting a chain letter in my email.
(BTW, this constitutes the tagged posts I owe Sherrill, Carole, and whoever it was who tagged me for that Page 123 thingie.)
Two updates: One, please, if you’ve tagged me don’t be hurt by this. It really does make me feel so bad when I don’t do the resulting memes that I’d just rather not. But this is meant to be amusing.
Two, I have updated the Stacia Kane website to include several deleted scenes from Personal Demons, so head on over and check them out if you’ve a mind to.