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My books can be purchased as e-books for only $1.99. If interested, just click here: Books.
Match Play is a golf/suspense novel. Dust of Autumn is a bloody one set in upstate New York. Prairie View is set in South Dakota, with a final scene atop Rattlesnake Butte. Life is the Arbor is a children's book about Rollie Rabbit and his friends (on about a fourth grade level). The Black Widow involves an elaborate extortion scheme. Doggy-Dog World is my memoir. And ES3 is a description of my method for examining English sentence structure.
In case anyone is interested in any of my past posts, you can find an archive list at the bottom of this page.

Wednesday, September 28

A Few Thank-You's

I recently asked anyone who might be reading these blog posts to recommend me to friends. And it seems that some of you have done just that. I thank you. If I don’t have any readers, then it’s a pointless pursuit. It’s ego driven, I know, sort of like a little kid screaming in an empty forest, “I’m here! I’m here!” But we’re all so alone in the universe that we need some answering call, a psychic pat on the head. I’d like to think that the words themselves are enough, a totally unselfconscious relating of my ideas. But that wouldn’t be true. A suspect who’s alone in a police station interview room knows the mirrored wall is a two-way and that someone is probably watching. But he can’t be sure. Brenda Leigh Johnson might or might not be there. So he self-consciously looks around, facial tics jumping all over the place. That’s me, minus the facial tics.

This blog site, blogspot.com, is really unusual. I don’t even remember how I first found it. Probably by doing a search for blog sites, and there it was. I just now did a search and found dozens and dozens of them, each one with millions of bloggers, each of us crying, “I’m here! I’m here! Is anybody there?” We all need an audience, or what’s the point? Even a writer of a private journal or diary is assuming that someday a child or grandchild will find it and read it. So he has to be careful not to say anything too outlandish, still has to guard against those facial tics. Henry David Thoreau wrote compulsively, but his words couldn't have been just for himself. He must have assumed an audience of some kind, even if only his fellow transcendentalists. How could he have guessed that the entire world would one day read and admire his words? On blogspot I can track my audience to see where my readers are located and I was amazed to discover that quite a few are in other parts of the world. How did they find me? Does a blog reader meander around blogsites looking for ideas, like a shopper in WalMart hunting bargains? Or does a word search lead him to me? In September, the pageviews from various nations are Russia 19, UK 8, Singapore 6, Germany 5, Malaysia 5, India 3, Algeria 2, France 2, and Italy 2. That’s simply weird. But I’m thankful for them, whoever they are. And I’m thankful for all the pageviews by readers in this country, 350.

Thank you, thank you.

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Any comments? Write me at jertrav33@aol.com