I. Just. Don’t. Get. It. I have been writing my blog for, what? several weeks now—I am easily in the double-digits, time-wise. And, not only that, I have written over 100 blogs—which is (do the math) triple-digits. So why am I not famous yet? I have been slaving at this keyboard, dedicated to my craft (that would be writing), and yet.......
Shouldn’t my blog have gone viral by now, you know, like one of those commercials that shows a pretty girl (with fluffy blond hair, it’s a shampoo commercial) and she says, “I told two friends” (and then the screen splits and now she has a clone), “and they told two friends,” announced by two voices now (screen splits again, producing four of her), broadcast by multiple voices—a little bit Sybil here—“and they told two friends” (and the screen keeps splitting and dividing and multiplying exponentially into infinity) “and so on and so on and so on and so on” (here the voices are reminiscent of an echo-chamber).
Shouldn’t my blog have done that by now? Expanded exponentially? Or shouldn’t YOU at least have done your part and “told two friends”? What exactly is the hold up?
I can’t understand it. I watched that “Julie and Julia” movie. Like me, the girl in the film also wrote a daily blog. Like me, the girl was wanting to achieve some big goal (for Movie Julie, it was cook 365 recipes from Julia Child’s book; for Blogger-Wannabe me it is to get laundry folded within one week of removing from dryer).
Wait! the similarities don’t end there. Guess what—I also like to cook. (Okay, not “cook” cook, as in “cooking”, but more like “bake”. Close enough.) I even work part-time at a high-end kitchen store (not that the Julie Chick in the movie did; but at least I know all the colors that Le Creuset comes in). Anyway, my point is, this Julie Person sat down at her computer every day (covered in coq au vin sauce, most likely) and cranked out her blog. Her readership grew and grew and grew and grew until one day ...... Jackpot! BOOK DEAL!
Do you know how long it took our little Miss Julie Chef/ Writer, writing all those blogs, to get noticed? That’s right: only two hours. By the end of the movie (even though we were all—can we confess amongst good friends here?—a little sick of Amy Adams by then) everyone had read her blog—including (here’s the best part) Julia Child herself.
Now, I don’t expect Julia Child to read my blog (umm, she’s dead), but maybe other famous or semi-famous people could? Other people who have power (I’m talking to you, Oprah) and connections (again, Oprah), and piercingly blue eyes (that would be you, Jeff Bridges, and uh, sorry about that whole Maui flight thing. Your wife put me up to it, that entire you’re-not-really-famous-so-who-are-you-really charade. Glad you have a good sense of humor). I know that Someone Somewhere has the power to make me a household name (in a good way though, not in a Monica Lewinsky way).
In the meantime, since, well, I have a lot of time until I’m instantly an overnight-success and become insanely rich and can’t-walk-down-the-street-anymore famous, I thought I’d write a preliminary practice letter to my Future Discoverer. Consider it a little “preview” of my all-important book acknowledgement section. Or better yet, why not, my book dedication as well. Here goes:
Part One: the dedication. I would like to dedicate this book, and any and all future books, to my staunch supporter, Oprah, without whom, I would be nothing. (and oh yeah, I kinda love my husband and my sons too so thank you also, but not as much as I thank Oprah!)
Part Two: the acknowledgement. (intended for alternate Discoverer, if Oprah is too busy to discover me) No one exists in a vacuum, and especially not me because I certainly do not even know how to turn one on (a vacuum I mean). We all need that very intelligent and important someone to bring our talents out into the world, that one special individual who goes above and beyond to offer guidance.
I could not have written this book and gotten it published and onto the shelves of Barnes & Noble without the help of my fabulous literary agent, Insert Your Name Here. Insert Your Name Here was with me every step of the way, and for that, I am truly grateful. He believed in me when no one else did (not even The Husband), he refrained from mocking me (well, openly and to my face), and he gave me a half-way decent cash-advance (I used the $100 to get a massage, but not in Sketchyville! Ha ha, inside blog-reader joke!).
My very dear Insert Your Name Here, I want you to know that you have moved beyond mere “agent” and into the realm of true blue friend. Thank you! I love you! If I were not already married, Insert Your Name Here, and you weren’t gay, I would seriously consider marrying you (or at least running off for a quick fling in Hawaii or wine-tasting in Napa, whichever).
Thank you! Thank you! If this were the Academy Awards, I would totally be going over my 2 minutes right now.
As you can see, future Discoverer, I will be more than happy to thank you often and in print, and possibly even get you a nice gift basket from a certain high-end kitchen store where I get a discount. And you do not even need to come to Friend Try-Out’s; you’re already on the list.
(“Manipulating Our Victories”)