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Self Publishing I might have mentioned in a Facebook post (yes, I fully understand the irony given my recent anti-Facebook venom)...anywhoo. I mentioned that a few people have asked me why I don't take this blog and publish it as a book.

And I had to stop and think.

To me...and maybe this is my fault, but to me this blog doesn't feel like 'real' writing. Now I know that 'real writing' is one of those very subjective terms. I dunno. I guess it almost feels like cheating in a way.

What I mean when I say this doesn't feel like real writing is this. When I write these blogs, I don't really feel like I'm focusing on the mechanics of the story. I get on here, at lunch or whenever, and I just write whatever the hell is in my head. There are very few, if any edits or re-writes. It is completely stream of conscious writing at its best (or at best its 'pretty ok for what it is').  Point is...I'm not sure it's book worthy.

But on the flip side of that (at least the few who have told me) enjoy reading it. Some of you read it for inspiration. Some read it because you want to see what bullshit comes out from my brain through my fingers. And still others read it in silent affirmation that fuck yes, you could definitely  write something better than this piece of garbage. And I get that. Because, sometimes, I do the same exact thing when I'm writing it.

So would this whole thing play out?

I'm glad you asked. As I see it, there's almost 700 posts from the 9 years I've had this blog.  That's not quite novel length. Then again, this isn't quite the great American novel. Or is it? I don't know. a cursory glance, I can see 3 distinct, major phases of this blog.

Musings on life, the universe, and the quest for the perfect chocolate malted.

This is the over-arching theme of the blog. Musings and randomness and whatever the fuck else pops in to my head goes here. I mostly do this so that the stories that are floating around in my head have more room to work. While I generally always thought of these as throwaway pieces, as I re-read them, or read others' reactions to the writings, I find that I tend to bury nuggets of truth in my work. That there is usually something that someone can identify with.

My love of thrifting lends itself to some amusing finds that really call in to question, how big IS this hand basket we're all going to Hell in, anyway?

One of my favorite eras of the blog was the High Plains Thrifter phase. In these posts, I would go in to local thrift stores and flea markets taking pix and posting humorous commentary on my findings. This phase fizzled when my favorite thrift shop (a) raised its prices and (b) gave me a verbal cease and desist. Or rather a 'stop taking pix or you'll be banned from this store for life.'  I was miffed at the time, but working again for a retail company, I completely understand. Also, there was that time when I made the armed rednecks at the flea market quite nervous.

Musings from a twice divorced man who is one divorce away from needing a paleontology degree.

This is not a cooking blog. But rather a series of posts on self-discovery, musings on life, and the occasional recipe. Some of the most real shit about me is in these posts.

And that's a little bit on how it would break down, I suppose. Based on those subject headings, there may be some chronological anomalies. A rift in the time-line, if you will. But I think it could work.

I don't know, though. I guess this is where I need some feedback. If this were an e-Book....would it be on your reading list?  What if it were an actual book? Let me know. I think at the very least I'm going to look at getting something put together on Amazon or maybe iBooks.

And with that, I'm going to go put on some clothes and see about tidying up the apartment.  What? I do some of my best work naked...and that IS one of the major benefits about living alone--clothes become completely optional.

Have a fantastic Saturday my friends!



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