I’ve had some wine, I’m PMSing and I’m having a pity party. (By “some wine”, I mean a whole bottle.)
I’m going to preface this by saying:
- If you do not have a uterus you may want to skip reading this post.
- If you have never leaked milk out of your tits you may want to skip reading this post.
- If you have never put frozen corn on your twat you may want to skip reading this post.
- If you are currently not on your period you may want to skip reading this post.
- If the thought of surviving on wine and chocolate alone puzzles you, you may want to skip reading this post.
If you have done the following today and can relate to me, then continue reading this post:
- Had 4 cups of coffee for breakfast.
- Cried 3 times for no reason.
- Had a block of cheese, a Milky Way and Michelob Ultra for lunch.
- Finally got out of your pajamas at 2:00 p.m.
- Yelled at your kid because he didn’t like the joke sticker you put on his lunch sack.
- When your husband nicely asked, “How’s your period?” you yelled back, “Red & Juicy!”
- Bought the wrong fucking box of tampons for the second time in 3 months.
- Spent 45 minutes trying to pry the new Shellac nail polish off your fingernails to avoid folding laundry.
Where was I? Oh, right. I was about to explain how BlogHer fucked me up.
Don’t get me wrong. I thoroughly loved BlogHer ’13. I met the most amazing women. It was like a giant slumber party of cool people and I hope to go again next year. (Shitastrophy, you better room with me!) Let me back the truck up though. I went to the Writer’s Digest Conference in NYC a few months prior and walked away inspired to “hone my craft” (a.k.a write) and publish a book. I listened to famous and not-so-famous authors talk about the sacrifices and rewards of being a published author- whether it be writing in a coffee shop or a cramped walk-in closet. I came away inspired, invigorated and motivated to rush home and finish my manuscript.
Then I attended BlogHer. Where everyone was in a “tribe” and talked about Facebook and Pinterest and Google + and Twitter and Triberr and Instagram and a Partridge in a Pear Tree. ”Likes” and SEO and analytics. Oh my! My head was swirling by the time I left BlogHer. I came home and put the actual writing on the back burner and joined Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and Triberr. I started “following” all the bloggers I admire.
At first I was like, “I’m just as fucking funny as People I Want To Punch In the Throat.” Then I was like, “No I’m not.” Then I was all, “I love to decorate. I could totally be friends with HouseTalkN“. Then I was like, “No I can’t. She’s really fucking funny.” Then I met Let Me Start By Saying and was all, “Hello! We could be friends.” But she was like, “Stop stalking me.” And then I met the Bearded Iris and was like “OMG! You don’t really have a goatee” and I practically licked her face and that was the end of that friendship. And then Insane in the Mom Brain posted, “OMG! I got 3,000 more followers overnight! How silly!”
*Don’t be an asshole and misunderstand the above. I love all those bloggers and have followed them for, like, ever and totally wish I were one of them. Or, at the very least, BFFs with them. So don’t get all hoity toity and shit like I’m ragging on them. Find somewhere else to complain.
Then I started comparing my numbers to theirs. Then getting depressed. And discouraged. And then I withdrew. And then I started my period and stepped right out to the edge of the cliff.
I feel like I’m at a crossroads. While I want to grow my blog and increase my readership, I really enjoy the process of writing. I’m not a sales person. I’m not a “you scratch my back, I scratch your back” kinda person. I don’t “retweet” and “follow back” just because – that’s not my style. I’m not gonna repost your mom’s aunt’s friends e-card just to get on your good side. I enjoy making people laugh. I love getting emails that read, “You’re hysterical!” or “I laughed my ass off!” or “I had a shitty week and knew if I came to www.leighbones.com I would laugh out loud and forget my week!” That is why I write. My absolute favorite thing is when friends tell me they had a “girls night” at the beach, or where ever, and they sat around reading my blog posts until they pee’d their pants. That’s why I write. Not for fame or fortune or “followers” or “likes”. But because it brightened someones day and made them laugh. And what is more important than laughing, other than love?
So I feel like I want to go back to my roots to why I began writing in the first place. I have two books I’m working on and I’d love to publish them both. If I don’t make a penny off of either of them, I suppose that will be just fine. My entire life I have been naive enough to think that I would change the world. I still believe that. I know that one of my books will make people laugh and the other one will change the world.
I’m ok with that.