I Am Not an Influencer

So I got this super cool email from my publisher today: he sent it to all the authors for free marketing. The hitch: I’d have to do a VIDEO for DS and send it to the much-better-known witch on social media, who will then post the videos regularly on their socials to market. It’s a fabulous opportunity.

I am a writer because I hate video. I HATE video. I sound dumb. I look dumb. I can’t get a full sentence out coherently without sweaty palms and my heart racing. I don’t know what to say. Sigh. I know, I know. If Jenny Lawson (The Bloggess) can do videos on Insta and other places, I should suck it up and do one, too. I probably will. I will whine some, first.

I wrote two essays today. I watched fAngus kill a mole (gross). I watched a doe pick her way out of the woods to the edge of the yard so she could nibble some brush, and I kept Minerva inside so the doe could do her thing. I got a load and a half of work tickets done today. It’s been productive.

I’m off to read the second half of letters my great-grandmother saved from 1929 – 1934. Some are from my great-grandfather, before they were married. Some are from her sister. A couple are from here little brother, who was in high school at the time. They are WONDERFUL. I plan to transcribe them first (the handwriting is a little hard to read in a few spots, and there’s some slang I’m not sure of) and then put together the story. Hearing the gossip from 1932 is excellent. Hearing Gen, the sister, encouraging Dot, the great-grandmother, to keep her job and save up so she can move out and get her own apartment for $3.25 rent and be independent, at a time when that was pretty scandalous, is really really cool. I would’ve liked…would she be great-great-aunt Gen?