Kage Alan Blog

Note From The Author: This is a post I did two weeks ago as a guest blogger on author Patricia Logan’s site. Originally, I was going to let it be a one-off and then move on. However, it received some positive comments and since the original post was published with rather a creatively distracting font color, I figure I’d go ahead and preserve it here. If you’ve already read it, I’ll see you on Thursday. If not or if you’d like to read it again, here you are!

I was elated when Patricia Logan deman…uh…asked if I’d be a guest blogger on her site. You see, she has a habit of spending a great deal of time making sure people don’t know who I am, or calling my innocent little ol’ self some names I dare not repeat because the nuns who raised me at the orphanage would be mortified. But, she’s old and drinks. What can you expect?
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Psst! Wanna know a secret? When it comes to blogging, I only have an idea for 1 in 3 blog posts that I sit down to write. They’re a crap shoot. No, not that kind. The other kind. The clean kind. My first pass at writing one is usually allowing my mind to upchuck whatever the hell it has lodged in its throat. The second pass tries to make sense of it, then the third pass is merely there for me to find a way to make it entertaining for my ass (figuratively speaking). After all, if I can’t read it, how can I expect someone else to? The scary part is that there are times I really open up and bare myself, yet I never know if that particular post is going to go over well or make me look like a total ass. You just don’t know. Well, I don’t know. Anyway, I was curious after the New Year to look through Google Analytics and see what my Top 5 blog posts were in terms of traffic. You ready for this?
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Did you know there were actually people with the name Andy Stevenson?  I didn’t, not until the last year when my Google Alerts were actually producing a number of results, especially in social media, by guys with that name who weren’t related to my book.  I imagine it must be a little strange for them to see a book title with their name on it and even more so when they realize it’s a gay comedy.  At least I’ve never received a nasty e-mail because of it.  And, truth be told, I almost didn’t bother revising it or submit it for publication.  Almost.
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I’ll pick up a copy of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to My Sexual Orientation from time to time, usually before a book signing, and just read over bits and pieces.  That’s how it starts anyway and before I know it, I’m usually speed reading it.  Why?  Honestly, it reminds me of where I came from and what I was going through at the time.  I was 26 (I think) when I started writing it and it was NEVER meant to be a comedy.  Writing something humorous was as far removed as the idea I’d be with the same guy today as I was then.  I was simply never that lucky.
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It’s rare, but I’ve been asked from time to time for advice.  It’s lately been about writing since I might have an opinion or two on the subject.  Other times?  Life…things.  Why?  Because I’m old…er…ish.  I honestly refrain from offering advice, writing or otherwise, since I find it arrogant that I would think I know enough to suggest a course of action to anyone about anything.  Unless it’s about Blu-Rays.  I know a bit about those, too.  So I thought that I might offer up a few safe things to share with you from my own life, humorous or otherwise, that you can take away from it what you will.  Ready?
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Monday is a day to fear.  Why?  It’s daunting.  The weekend is far away.  The boss has no issue with delegating crap to you because you’ve got 40+ hours to “make it happen.” Your boss, not mine.  I like my boss.  He brings me my favorite kind of donut when he stops by Tim Hortons in the morning.  Stuff like that’s important to me.

So, I’ve been thinking out loud this past week about an announcement I was or wasn’t going to make.  It totally depended on how things went during the last week and I’m really taking a leap of faith here that I can keep things moving along this current week and each week in the future.

So, here it goes:
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As an adult writer, I write to give my ideas and fantasies life.  As a child writer, I did it to continue stories I loved and wanted more of.  Our fourth grade teacher once read our class Otherwise Known As Sheila The Great by Judy Blume and I wasn’t satisfied thinking the story was over at the last page, so I set out to write the next adventure.  Sure, I didn’t get very far, but that wasn’t the point.  Endings don’t exist to a child.
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