I write books for me. Or rather, the books I write just sort of happen to me, and I find out later whether or not people like them. In this regard, books are the easy part.
But the end of the book isn't the end of the story, at least not for the author. Editing comes first. If you're lucky, publishing comes next. But after you've hit all those markers, there is still so much to do. Blog posts. Interviews. Navigation of social media. All the stuff that, say, a particularly introverted writer who just wants to make the words and then have them whisked away to somewhere nice while she makes more words isn't all that good at.
It's me. I'm talking about me. You knew that.
I don't know what people want. Every interview I have done, there is a little voice in the back of my head yammering "please don't hate me, please don't hate me, please don't hate me." My interviewers, and fans, have been nothing but sweet to me. The voice doesn't care. "Please don't hate me, please don't hate me." I assume the little voice back there remembers high school and is scarred forever.
As you may have noticed, my blog posts don't have much of a theme beyond "this is what I was thinking about when I started the blog post." This is pretty much the case across all my media.
So I asked.
Twitter says they want more videos of me playing ukulele. Why? I don't know. My voice is still pretty iffy from this winter-long cold, and I'm not especially good. Maybe that's why they like it. I'm just a human, doing human things on the other side of the internet. If that's what they want, that I can do.
And for those who requested more uke videos, here you go.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8FcjnNzoZKQ