In the past few days, at least three people who are not my critique partner have commented to me that they have been reading my blog and think it's funny. These are people that I actually know (you know who you are)--not cyber-strangers of any sort.
My reaction: What? People are actually reading this thing?! People I know?!
My fear: Now I'll never be able to be funny again. Every entry from now on will be like the torturous annual composition of the holiday family newsletter. Me trying oh-so-hard to be funny and entertaining while simultaneously trying not to offend or confuse my husband's colleagues, my Great Aunt Margaret, my Granny, or any of the other 75 people on our mailing list.
Because, you see, when I write my books, and when I write entries for this blog, I'm writing it mostly to entertain myself. I'm writing without worrying about my audience.
It's a little bit like when you're in the bathroom getting out of the shower, and your favorite song comes on the radio. No one's looking, and you can't help but dance around naked. You probably do your best, most uninhibited, exhilerating dancing then. Or maybe you look hilarious, but who cares, because no one's watching.
You see how we're back to that whole Naked Page theme?
Actually, it's good for me to realize people are watching (or reading). Because, my writing means nothing without an audience. So the true test is to be able to keep on dancing (or writing) without inhibition, not caring that people are watching.
So go ahead. Read my blog. I might embarrass the hell out of myself, but that's probably when I'm the most entertaining.