For whatever reason, the most hits I get on this blog is about 25. It’s frustrating, because it’s nice to write, but it’s better to be read. I’ve seen sites where someone posts a pic of a bird and a pun and they have a shit ton of readers.
Facebook limits the exposure you get too. Traffic is very low from Facebook, unless you pay for a boost. It’s a gimmick. The boosts don’t work.
Lately to me, Facebook is frustrating. It’s a waste of time. Same with Instagram, TikTok, and Pinterest. I have a lot of work to do, and I’ve been using social media as a convenient excuse to avoid it. Why? Because the book scares the hell out of me. It’s so much. And I’m closing in on the first draft and I know I’ve just got upwards of five more drafts once it is done.
Imagine painting your ceiling with two 1/2″ artist brushes and you’ll see what a first draft is. Because once it’s done, you have to do it all over again.
Today I sat in a hot springs and had a long meditative afternoon with myself. I’m getting in my own way and after thinking through all the turmoil in my life right now, some things fell into place. I have a story to finish. Self care is crucial. So is just sitting in your feelings and working through them. Time for another chapter.
The book is demanding to be written right now, which means I’m not going to be on social media if I can help it. I might not even be sleeping all that much. I’m going to listen to the story and make sure it is true and told with conviction, honesty, and love.
Not that I will be missed on social media.
Wendigo Mountain 