Anonymous

My first full day of writing in ages, yesterday. It was glorious!

Jazzed and feeling quite full of myself, I embarked in the always harrowing task of updating my author profiles. Specifically: my biography photo.

When one is forced by mental illness to lead a relatively solitary life, it is extremely hard to find photos of one’s self. People don’t know me beyond my words. I don’t mind this too terribly much (at least I am known, if just somewhat), but it does become an issue at the most awkward of times.

Hence, two hours of selfies yesterday.

Hence, my dog looking at me like I had finally lost my last marble.

It’s incredibly weird to see myself on film. I, too, tend to forget I exist beyond my words.

Hmm, how odd that is.

Bottom line: Leave your mark on this world however you must. Be it a smile, a laugh or a well-placed slash of pen upon paper.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Hush, Hush, Sweet Whore

The size of my gnat.

With the spate of reality shows clogging up the airwaves these days, fame seems to be the currency many are trading in today.

Not me.

Every time I allow myself to get a little huffy about this anything-for-fame thing, a troublesome gnat of doubt starts buzzing around my ear.

The little mongrel singsongs, “Aren’t you doing the same thing? What’s your blog about except to bring you fame and fortune? You’re a fame whore, too, milady.”

No, I’m not.

Do you hear me? No, I am not.

The very last thing I want is to become famous. If I could wear the cloak of utter anonymity and still climb my way up in the publishing world, I would. I’d let the no-name-ness swallow me whole and retire to my roses and tomatillos in a beautiful, perfect hush.

But I can’t.

Name recognition is product recognition in the literary market.

I don’t like it, but that’s the way it is.

Writing is my one ticket out being a burden, and I’m taking it with no apologies (just an occasional buzz of doubt.)

So, yes, while I’m trying to use this blog to get the Chloe Stowe name out there, I don’t think for a moment that I’m trading on my reality for fame.

Am I wrong?

I really hope not. Because if that stinking gnat is spouting just a little bit of truth, I will be sick.

Just a little self-introspection to share this bright Sunday afternoon.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe