"You have made your blog a very friendly place to visit. It's a sweet, smutty home away from home."
"You're a sweetie pixie, thank you, your blog is such a nice place to be!
"Hello there. In the spirit of obsessions and fantasies about secrets I am compelled to share my own.
I am addicted to your site.
I said it."
You know I'm obsessed with reviews, right? I'm always asking for them, posting them. Linking. But I may not have said this: I care far more about the reader reviews than professional reviews. Because I'm not putting books together for professionals. I'm putting books together for readers. For real people. For you. Even more than reviews, I adore the behind-the-scenes emails I've gotten about my blog, like the ones above. When someone takes the time to stop and say, "What you're doing works for me..." that just means everything.
The politics of blogland get my goat—but I've been out of an office for so many years, that I'm rusty at office politics in general. What I'm trying to do—and this has been my mission forever in my snarky, sarcastic, nasty little way—is to focus on the positive. What do I like to do? I like to write about sex. What do I want to do? I want to make people feel okay about what they like. What am I obsessed with?
Oh, you nailed me. Buttons.
No, I mean, giving writers (both new and used) a forum to stretch themselves. All of my obsessions come together here. I'm an exhibitionist and a voyeur. I get to stand up in front of you all, and I get to see you naked. But today, I realized as I savored the emails above, that I might not say thanks often enough. Thanks, guys. You're honestly my obsession.
Now, who do you want me to be, to make you sleep with me?
P.S. Seriously. That's the question of the day. Do you want me to be Joan Jett? Mickey Rourke? Who is your secret fantasy? And also, god, I remembered this song from the 80s. But I don't think I ever saw the video before. Damn.