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The writer (whom I won’t identify for fear that the Google Gods will once again bring my name to the Writer’s attention) sent me an e-mail about a post I had written on one of the Writer’s books. Yes, “Writer” with a capital “W” – someone published in a big way. Someone with an agent and reviews in large, national newspapers. Someone who gives interviews.
I marvel any time someone finds one of my blogs and takes the time to write. To me, it’s this incredible bonus because I enjoy writing so much, whether or not anyone reads my work. Honesty is a key ingredient in my writing, and I’m opinionated. I do my best to be tactful, but sometimes I’ve hit the “publish” button and felt my heart pound. A few months ago I wrote about a media panel here in Las Vegas, and I had a funny feeling when my post went up. I had given my very honest opinion about all the panelists, and I didn’t like all of them. Who will read this, anyway? I reasoned. Surely, even if they found my blog, the official Las Vegas media would regard me as nothing more than a speck on the windshield of the Internet, right? Just another irksome “citizen journalist.” Then I got an e-mail from one of the panelists – thankfully, he had given the presentation I liked – and I had to face the unpleasant thought that if one panelist had found my blog, then chances were good the rest of them had also.
Not until I got the e-mail from the Writer did I stop to re-examine my assumptions about who might be reading my work. The funny thing about the post that attracted the Writer’s attention is that I had labored long and hard over it, but not because I had concerns over what I’d written about the Writer. My concerns were over a segment about a local man, and I spent a day making sure that my words were fair and appropriate. The Writer’s e-mail was a surprise. Thankfully, it was a friendly counter-point to what I had written, one that gave me a chance to respond.
After the e-mail, I realized that making assumptions about who was reading my blog was foolish. Anyone might be reading my words – people from the other side of the world, famous people, angry people. Yikes. Talk about something that makes your heart pound! I had unwittingly envisioned walls and barriers that do not exist.
What about you? Have you heard from a surprising reader? Do you make assumptions about who reads your work?
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Photo courtesy of Georgios Wollbrecht at http://www.sxc.hu/profile/Wazari
1 comment:
I write for the sheer pleasure of writing. I am my number one reader of what I write. Reading what I write is an encounter with the way my mind works. It offers me a way to know myself better. That others read what I wrote is one big bonus. If someone had asked me two weeks ago if I expected anyone to REALLY read my work the answer would have been a resounding "no". But they do and I am touched in a way I never was. Every reader is a surprise.
And yes, I had just stepped into the blogosphere door a few weeks back.
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