It seems I have morphed into two separate people.  My blog, oddly, has very little to do with my writing. At this point it seems almost like a little extra something here and there.  I don’t blog constantly and oh I wish I could, but there is only so much I can talk about isn’t there?  Yay I get my work out, yay one thing or another. Those come on occasion.

But what really happens when I blog? Usually its at an odd hour of the night because I have this odd thing about staying up way past my bedtime. When I do it is out of curiosity or frustration or just downright head-scratching.

So here’s the thing, I have come to love both in one way or another, but I am certain someone could do a better job than I.  I started off trying to get things off the ground, like many early writers do I went to the *gasp* internet. I swear it was not around when I needed it way back when. It says do this, then that, and before doing another thing don’t forget to one and carry the two and….math and technology. Bloody hell. “Set up a blog” they say. Sure I did that. But it is supposed to be attached to my author page? Or should it BE my author page? No matter what it meant I’ve done it now and I can only cross my fingers it is somewhat easy to navigate. I like easy. Easy is great. No fuss, no muss.

Marketing, yes that’s what it was supposed to be for. I remember now. How good a job am I doing at marketing when I’m just rambling around like someone who’s had one too many a drink and ready to break out the Irish drinking songs.  Now it doesn’t seem to matter. I think I’m getting a fit, even if it’s not my original intent I like reading blogs, I like rambling. The dog and cat only listen so much and we won’t even talk about anybody else for fear of the look of death.