Reaching for Traction, Or, Red Staplers? I Didn't Get Any Memo about Red Staplers! Or, Catharsis

So this morning I happen to stumble upon an online discussion about the best way to blog (e.g., Blogger, WordPress, etc.). Many authors gave their 2 cents. I think the part that still continues to poke at my brain is the fact that there are SO MANY options with caveats. And while I am grateful for the choices (I consider myself progressive), I really just want to say, "You know what, people? I just want to freakin' write, okay? I just want to write my stories, publish them, so I can get them out of my head. I already feel like I'm in high heels* dancing backward and NOW you want me to wear a blindfold while wrestling a Komodo dragon?"** PFFT!

Freaking awesome.

My inner nonconformist is cheering me on and encouraging me to drink more coffee.

But I didn't go all ranty during the discussion. I shared my 2 cents and was grateful for all the new information.

More options. Noigitot.***

I don't consider myself a luddite, and even if I did, my husband's love of all things electronic would balance it out (He has a tablet I call "Second Wife." He's got a Kindle Paperwhite he occasionally sees on the side. I'm cool with it.)

Now that my "ranty" seems to have exhausted itself, I really have to acknowledge that adding social media to the mix pulls me out of my writing closet and exposes me to the sun. I see the logic in having a human presence as oppose to being "faceless" and hoping my disembodied awesomeness will draw worldwide readership. No. No, Ma'am. That dog don't hunt.

Noigitot, the hamster wheel that is my brain.

In the end this is really me struggling with feeling comfortable using social media to display my wares. I understand it on a lazy level (just enough to get by). I need to up my A-game so I don't feel like a freak when I post something. Weird form of self-therapy? Yep, I think so.

So this is your warning that you will "see" more of me in the future. It's fun working out my anxiety for all to see.

Maybe I am into exhibitionism after all.

*I do not own high heel shoes. My chiropractor would probably quit me.

**I wouldn't bet Vegas odds on me winning at Komodo dragon wrestling.

***Pronounced "Noy-gee-tot." I think it's a curse word I remember from watching "The Pirates of Dark Water." If "twerking" exists, I think "noigitot" should too. Just puttin' it out there, people. Don’t shoot the messenger. Also, as a child I slipped on black ice and hit my head so take that information for what you will.