The evolution of a blogger: Part 2

If you missed Part 1, you can see it here.  It’s ok.  I’ll wait.

Caught up?  Okay, then, where did we leave off?  Oh, right.  The publisher you found on Google would rather shave a cat than read your memoir.

See?  They’re bald now. Because you had to send your memoir.  Poor kitties.  Gonna be a while before these guys look pretty again.

A little time goes by and you wake up one day and think “I’ll blog some of my memoir!” Where you came up with the idea to blog is a mystery.  Maybe there’s an evil blog-fairy who visits sad little memoir-writers while they sleep and plants the idea in their dreams.

Because although you’ve never read a blog in your life (unless Perez Hilton counts?), you get this crazy dumbass idea to start your very own.

And then you get over-the-top-nutso-excited about it.

Because you’re completely clueless, you have to consult the almighty Google and figure out how exactly to blog.

You quickly realize that it’s going to cost a little money to become a blogger.  But that’s okay, because surely you’ll be famous in no time and people will want to advertise on your site and everything.  Probably, you’ll come out ahead, even!

I’m posting it all now!  Holy shit people will LOVE THIS.

Because you don’t know whether you fit into the autism-mommy world, and you want to connect with other parents who are confused and don’t have a specific diagnosis, you decide you’re part of the “Middle World.”  They will relate.

And so, you name it.  And it is born.

Then it’s time to figure out which parts of your memoir make sense to be included on your blog.  And you decide that you should write some new stuff.  So you write.  And you write. And you write some more.

Then you name your blog “Finding Ninee” and later wish you spelled “ninee” like “niney” instead and try to convince yourself every day that it doesn’t matter.  People will read what a ninee is (it’s how my son pronounces airplane, for those of you not in the know) and they’ll figure out that it’s pronounced like nine-ee.

Then, you come out to your family and friends.  You feel on top of the world!

Okie dokie, folks.  That’s part two of “The evolution of a blogger.”  And if you guessed that it’s about me, well, then.  Aren’t you clever.

I’m trying to decide whether to have a part three.  I left a bunch of stuff out that I was originally planning to tell you about.  Like about finding other bloggers and stuff.  And really aggravating contests that drive you nuts because you’re obsessed and possessed.

NOTE:  Please know that no actual cats were harmed in this process, this post, or by me, ever.  Because cartoon cats can’t feel it when they get shaved.  It’s true.  So it doesn’t actually hurt or anything.  Same with their bandaids.  I promise.  Special thanks to Rachel at Tao of Poop for reminding me that you might want to know that all real and imaginary and cartoon cats are actually just fine.  And not even bald.  Well, not because of me, anyway….who knows what those cat-shaving publishers are doing.