Well, it’s been a long, wonderful weblog of 10 weeks, but time moves on. I have enjoyed every day of this experience, excepting Sundays, when I guess people are watching football instead of reading obscure blogs or even checking to see if a new, exciting, still-obscure blog exists. My dreams of immediate success leading to a monetary windfall followed by a down-spiral of more material for blogging have not come to fruition, so I have decided to cut back on blogging to two to zero times a week. This will allow me to focus on marketing my stunningly well-done adult coloring book. Note: it’s just one I colored in. I really did fantastic things with white crayons and scented markers. It was a book of Picasso’s art, but my finished pages look more like Klimt, so I bet there’s a shopping mall or emo college student somewhere that will be interested in it. I plan to make money on the frames, mostly.
Let me say I have given this decision a lot of thought. Almost from the beginning of my blogging days during a lull at work, I knew it was a possibility that I would have to lay aside my writing and return to interacting with my family. So I planned from the start to leave a trail of compelling posts that suddenly stop, pick up again with periodic updates (is “tri-monthly” a word? “quad-annually?”) about how busy I am and how I hope to get back into my writing soon, and then mysteriously disappears when I apply for a new job. Meanwhile, I will assiduously reorganize all of my completely random, sometimes way-too-personal posts into an imaginative, book-length dialogue between Socrates and a character fashioned from the best parts of Hillary Clinton, Marco Rubio, and Taylor Swift. I can’t reveal the details, but let’s just say that “Taylary Swifio” (a very knowledgeable, trustworthy, and gorgeous singer-debater) gets the best of Socrates and forces him to acknowledge he’s a profoundly ignorant man who cannot for the life of him shake, shake, shake it off.
Using this idea—unique and unparalleled in American literature—I will spend the next year or two attempting to obtain a literary agent with excellent connections to New York publishing houses or, barring that, an experimental academic press. I expect this will involve a lot of hard work and multiple re-writes of my source material (other ideas: hard-core military science fiction; free verse; a series of letters to my unborn future dog; desk calendar).
Before I sign off, I’d like to review some of the highlights from my time blogging nearly every day. First, I want to salute all the wonderful commenters—thanks Mom. Second, I was once invited to participate in a blog challenge that would have involved me publishing three inspiring quotes on three consecutive days. I declined because I am terrible at choosing quotes. I would have picked the time Gandhi said “Yes” or Einstein went “Huh?” I would have attributed things to Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard and Samuel Twain. Basically, I would have de-inspired people. Third, I much enjoyed the huge one-day spike the first time I posted a link to my blog on my Facebook account. Thanks, Facebook friends, for giving this a shot and then quickly never coming back. I guess you weren’t laughing with me, but with your spouse as you made fun of the weird guy you once went to high school/college/religious camp with.
Well, thanks for reading, fellow bloggers and obligated family members. I appreciate you occasionally stopping by. Know that, even though my blog was an increasingly well-kept secret, I believe we did a lot of good. We never were able to do funny screencaps of Amy Schumer, owing to the technological hurdles involved, but we were able to use Microsoft Paint to create some pretty cool .png files, like the one where a scary playground duck terrorizes children. Adieu! I’ll then be back in three months to remind you I’m still not here—unless I get a book deal, in which case this site is totally 404’d.