The things I write about are FAR from interesting (except the day I smashed Lou Gramm in the sack with my grocery cart), but writing about them forces me to see the humor and the absurd in the day to day routine. As you might remember, I had/have postpartum depression, so next to the happy pills, this has been a huge help to me. And so has your site. And Misfit’s. And Hausfrau, and on and on, because it helps me to know that we’re all going throught the same crap, and that I’m not a bad mom if I sometimes wish they’d just leave me alone.

When I first started writing, I made sure that everything I wrote was at least slightly witty. And like Franny, I was starting to feel the need to perform. So now, I’m just writing, boring, funny, whatever, and it still helps. I’m sure I’ve lost a ton of readers, but I try to remember that forming a fan club wasn’t the purpose of doing this.

Although I’ll be in Fresno signing autographs on Saturday. Please try not to stampede when you see me…

‘NOOOOO!’ she said. ‘I’m half way through the book! I don’t want to know that it’s not true!’

I think you are absolutely right about the investment of the reader being an important part of the reading experience. And the more I think about Frey, the more he irritates me, because he had all sorts of people–including Oprah and various book reviewers–investing in his story.

The story may indeed be a good story, but the experience of thinking that it was true and then finding out the contrary will change the experience readers have with the text. And not in a good way.

The problem with the Frey story is that he had people (readers) invested in his story because he and the publisher claimed it was true. I don’t think people were mad they they paid for the book but that that they invested themselves into the character and the story.

Much like blogging. Whatever readers a blogger has they are investing their time, emotion, sometimes prayers and good vibes into someone’s story. Those investors deserve better than “I made this up.” Unless they KNOW they are reading something that is made up.

And my name isn’t Crayonz. It’s Lolita. And damn it if blogger didn’t totally piss me off today.