I blog verbally. I’ll tell the same story to a dozen people if I think it’s funny or interesting. I come from a long line of story-tellers. My father would sit for hours and tell stories about himself and others. He’d tell the same stories over and over again—a little differently everytime, like cooking a favorite recipe and changing the spices slightly with each rendition.
That being said, blogging in writing shouldn’t be that much different, but I hesitated for a long time. I worried about using up all my snark and smart-alleck on the blog and not having any left for my books. Snark, smart-alleck, irony, and revelling in the silliness/stupidity of the world form the backbones of my books. They’re the reason I write. They’re the magic weapon with which I survived a very odd life.
Things can’t hurt you if you laugh at them. “Ha! It’s just a flesh wound!”
Recently, however, I’ve come to the conclusion that for me SSISS (snark, smart-alleck, irony, silliness, stupidity) is a never-ending supply—a vast, sticky pool that I’ll never escape, let alone run out of. Kind of like dinosaurs and the La Brea Tar Pits, I’m stuck with it, and it’s stuck with me.
Mental comic flypaper.
So, here’s my blog…