I'm going to make my less-than-triumphant return to the woods this weekend. The Dead Runners are having a gathering at Afton State Park this Saturday and I plan to join them for at least part of the day (as I'm not feeling well, yet again, it might just be for the noon lunch). There's always room for some newcomers, so come out if you feel like it.
I get a bunch of "meet the author" notices. One this week was for a woman I'd never heard of, but whose blog gets 50000000 hits per month! I checked it out (she doesn't need any more publicity) and found the secrets to her success: 1) She's a she. Women seem to follow each other on blogs, finding every comment on their lives a revelation. It's the "Fauxpra Effect." [I should copyright Fauxpra, if no one else has.] 2) She's a good photographer. Images of wildlife are popular, but she could've had a career as a food stylist, as her pictures of food she's prepared are excellent. 3) She posts recipes. If there's anything more obsessively followed than food, it's its preparation. 4) She talks about her personal life and never says anything that isn't uplifting.
None of that touchy-feely crap here, sisters! Grumpy, data-filled, abstract and left-brained is what you get on this blog.
In 2006, I got notices for meeting a bunch of authors: Lynn Ames, Kim Baldwin, Rose Beecham, Lindy Cameron, Jaime Clevenger, Stella Duffy, Jennifer Fulton, Jeanne Harris, Ellen Hart, Patty Henderson, Lynne Jamneck, Lori Lake, Julie Lieber, Randy London... okay, that's the first half; no point typing all of them. They all write lesbian detective fiction. Not sure how I got on that mailing list, but it says volumes about writers and their audiences.
I recently got a few notices for meeting authors. All poets. All female. The last thing I got published got rejected five times until I submitted it under a female pseudonym.
Okay, enough ranting. Time to go for a run. Gotta get ready for the Thanksgiving gorgefest!
Aid Station: Eugene Curnow
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