I was talking to my agent, Michele, yesterday, and she reassured me that we hadn't "tapped out" yet with publishers for the memoir. She went on to tell me stories of her greatest successes (in the face of seeming failure), and one involved a woman, who started a blog, and got some a lot of people to follow.
I said, "Well, I've been averaging close to 1,000 hits a week."
"That's good," she said, "especially for a blog just started. But this woman was getting like 10,000 - 20,000 hits a week. We eventually had publishers lining up, even though I don't think she wrote as well as you, because publishers could see her marketing platform translated to guaranteed sales."
I felt like a little boy again, like when I drove by Tracy Bartlett's house on my Huffy and her douche bag boyfriend was picking her up in his Fiero.
10,000 is a lot of hits. I sent out an impassioned plea on Facebook yesterday for advice, of which I received a great deal of good advice. But the best probably came from Duane. Who said, "Um, before you can shoot for 10,000 hits a day, don't you need 10,000 hits? Like, total?"
Yesterday we stood at 6,400.
So, yeah, Duane, probably shooting a little high. But there is a reason people like me shoot so high. On the surface, it may look like it's because I am ambitious, pro-active, want to succeed. But that's not the truth. The truth is, I set my sights so high, not in the hopes that I will attain these lofty goals, but rather I do so knowing already knowing that I will fail. Which will give me an excuse to hate myself. Which is what I do best. Besides being in love with myself.
Like they say in AA: the piece of shit at the center of the universe.
Only I don't do AA. I fucking hate those meetings.