It's nine o'clock in the morning and I have 7,200 hits on my blog. It the time it took me to take a shower, I got more hits than my best day ever prior to writing Changing the Creepy Guy Narrative. At the rate I'm going "Creepy Guy" will surpass my all time best article (20 Ways to Sabotage Yourself as a Writer) by about ten thirty [ETA: it was more like 10:08]. "20 Ways" is an article that has been pulling in a healthy trickle from Stumbleupon for just under a year. I seriously thought I was never going to write anything ever that did that well. At the rate I'm going, in about four hours I will surpass my best month ever with just today's traffic--just today's. If this keeps up at its current pace, at about this time tomorrow, the page views of the last week will be roughly on par with the page views of the rest of this blog...since I started it...in February...of 2012.
|See these tiny little bumps on the left? Those are the "really good" spikes of my normal traffic patterns.|
You can see yesterday where I thought "holy crap that's a lot of hits!"
And then there's today....
Also, I am not a slow typist.
I'm not saying any of these things to brag. The writerly exhibitionist in me, vaguely prideful at having written something so successful, was shrinking fast in the rear-view mirror yesterday about two hours after I posted it. That was replaced with the shocked face of someone who has just been told their own mother drowned in asparagus pudding.
This morning what I feel is more akin gnawing sense of doubt and unease.
Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I feel like I'm dealing with a situation that's way over my pay grade. Obviously I'm a blogger and I want to be read by lots of people but 24 hours ago (well, maybe twenty EIGHT hours ago) I was just doing my thing and getting excited about having a month of 15,000 visitors instead of 14,700. Everything was kind of ramping up in a natural progression. Then suddenly I felt like the Sorcerer's Apprentice.
Part of the reason is just that this is not a normal article, and I sort of feel like the rest of this dog and pony show will seem a little discordant. I'm getting followers on Twitter, Facebook, and G+ and thinking "you know the next article isn't going to be anything like this one." I very much stretched the connective tissue of a personal experience to be "about writing" by using the motif about narratives. I count myself as a feminist, but Writing About Writing is not a feminist blog or an anti-sexism blog or even a blanket social justice blog. It's about writing. Except for a quazi creative non-fiction piece I did right after the SCOTUS ruling on DOMA called Waking From Nightmares. Some of my fiction explores social issues but the blog itself is usually mostly a snarky mix of craft, process, and review articles and some guest bloggers who have just......epic amounts of issues. I'm not going to change what I'm doing here, and I'm happy if the exposure brings me a few new readers, but I'm still a little aware that later on today when I make my last call for nominations on the fantasy novel poll or get risque as I answer grammar questions that some people are going to be thinking "What in the fresh hell is this fucking shit?"
It sort of sucks knowing that nothing I possibly write for probably years--short of how I went back in time and actually kung fu fought Nazis--will hold a candle to today's success, and it's a little nervous making to consider how many more people than before will be watching with horror as I
Part of the reason I'm anxious is (as one of my commenters on that article and long-time friend pointed out) that I feel a little embarrassed by all this attention because I didn't think of what I did as particularly commendable. I thought it was an epic snark and that at best I just happened to be using my powers of sarcasm for good. The fact that he almost got violent was not really in my mind when I decided to be a smart ass. I was glad to change that narrative, don't get me wrong, but I hope some day I can live in a world where the story of folks helping out a woman like that is considered common decency and basic humanity, and not something particularly worthy of praise.
Part of the reason is just overwhelming logistics. I try to get back to everyone that comments but at this point that post is at sixty comments and I'm getting about ten an hour, so unless I wanted to just reply all day, I am simply overwhelmed. I'll try to get to everyone eventually, but if it takes me a few days, or until after this post dies down, I'm sorry. I could probably do it if I wrote nothing but replies all day, but I actually wouldn't want to do that.
And part of the reason is just because now so many damned people know that I'm not very good about remembering to put the commas in the right place.