One of the biggest regrets I had after I wrote my book was that I arrived at the end and realized I didn’t exactly show readers my full hand. I felt like a hypocrite. Here I’d nabbed the coveted URL and book title, but did I succeed in letting in my readers? No. Admittedly, I wasn’t ready to, but I’m working on that.
Professional book marketing folks who read my book and were paid for their honest opinion told me they loved the stories about my guests but that they wanted to know more about me. Apparently I, too, was a character in my own book, even though I wanted to deny that was the case.
I think somewhere deep down, writers like writing about other people while they struggle to learn more about themselves in the process. It’s a humble and sometimes humiliting process to write about oneself. Writers are typically a shy, introverted lot hungry to observe other people in culture and our immediate surroundings, but reticent to actually throw ourselves into the fray. I’m the nerd in the corner, the wallflower. INFJ on the Myers-Briggs personality test, in case you’re wondering. Continue reading