This morning I put myself on Facebook. Officially. As PJ MacNamara. (That's not my real name, it's the name of a character from "Killing Time..." that I've adopted as a nom de plume.) I didn't put anything special on there, just a cut and paste of my first post on here. But it was kind of a big deal because it's both a landmark and a watershed moment for me. This was the moment I reluctantly acknowledged that people are going to be flicking through my book in Waterstone's some time soon, and if they actually buy it, they might decide to look for me on Facebook to see if I have any further revelations. Those people who read book one are surely going to be looking to me for answers, wanting to interact with me, and I really don't do interaction that well. I intend to keep a low profile, remain anonymous for as long as possible so that the routine of my ordinary, mundane life is not turned on its head. One day I'm going to have to sit in a bookshop or a library signing my name all day for strangers who will either freak me out because they know my book backwards or irritate me because they skimmed it and as a result missed the point entirely. This is getting serious now, and I'm not sure that I like it.
That truly was a dreadful paragraph. Did I make my point? Did I even make sense? I'm sorely tempted to delete the whole thing and start again from scratch. That's what writers do. I have to keep reminding myself that this is a blog. It's not a work of art. It's not going to win any prizes. And it's 11.30pm. Let's see if it looks any better in the morning, eh?
That truly was a dreadful paragraph. Did I make my point? Did I even make sense? I'm sorely tempted to delete the whole thing and start again from scratch. That's what writers do. I have to keep reminding myself that this is a blog. It's not a work of art. It's not going to win any prizes. And it's 11.30pm. Let's see if it looks any better in the morning, eh?
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