To be a writer is to reveal. Sometimes we reveal once we publish. Other times we talk too much in bars. I love hanging out with writers because they’ll tell you just about anything you ask. And I’m a nosy sumbitch. (Downith: That’s Southern, possibly Southern/Midwest, American slang for “person, possibly unsavory.”)
To be a blogger is to reveal even more. Blog writing is less calculated. We just blurt it all out on the virtual page. And I have a bunch of new friends because of that. But there are a few of you who know me in person. Some of you are even related to me by blood. As I rage through the blinking windows wordpress provides, you call me if you think I’m in trouble. You congratulate for my keeping “in character.”
And I look at fellow editors and writers with websites. I don’t have a writer’s website, and I find myself wanting to link to my blog when in my writer persona. But my blog is anonymous so as to protect my editing career and to allow me to curse as much as I like. And, yet, this is my most vital presence online. So do I reveal all? My buddy T30SB and I have discussed this at length. She is “out” and I am still “in the closet.” If I were to publish the fucker once it’s finished, should I come out? This blog has nothing to do with the fucker contentwise, and I have no interest in publishing a book off the content of my blog. My identity is the biggest not-secret since Tom Cruise’s sexuality. I’m not famous, no one knows me, no one cares, and yet I’d hate for a potential client to google me and be put off by my blog.
The problem with writing is that when it’s going well you want to share, share, share. It’s a weird fucking world. How do you deal with this form? Do you sign your emails with your fake name? Does the Internet know too much about you? Do you bare it all?