Michael is like an internet big brother, and it’s nice to know somebody out there worries about me. Had I read that post at the time, I probably would’ve written a post that day (and wouldn’t have hurt Mary’s feelings).
However, it is strange to think that those worried people are folks you’ve never met. This is probably what fame feels like. (Sorta.)
Which reminded me of an article I read in this week’s Entertainment Weekly (much better than last week’s). It was written by another semi-famous writer, Stephen King, and had some very interesting thoughts on the way entertainers (specifically Jay Leno) deal with criticism—
I doubt if Mr. Leno was having much [fun] as his five-nights-a-week show lurched toward cancellation. Is he rich? Sure.
(Side note: that bit doesn’t apply to me.)
Is money enough of an air bag to cushion your self-esteem when you suddenly crash into an indifferent viewing world? Nope. When your greatest fulfillment in life is entertaining people, failing to do so is hurtful and dispiriting. You’re listening to the voice of experience; Kingdom Hospital flamed out on ABC in 2004.
Which is kinda how I feel when I write a post that doesn’t get many links or clicks. What’s the matter? I think. Was I not funny enough this week? Not mean enough? Too mean? Is that even possible?
Boy, if I ever do live up to Nathan’s lofty expectations for me (he thinks I’ll be writing “The Anonymous Showrunner’s Blog” soon), I don’t know if I’ll be able to take the pressure.