Hiding on the Internet

So I'm on the computer, procrastinating as usual before I do my actual writing when I come across a Blog Frog discussion that got me thinking. Heather from SITS (The Secret is in the Sauce) asked who regretted sharing their blog with family and I chimed in saying that I have no regrets because they don't know...yet.

Here's the deal: If I get a book deal, the cat's out of the bag. I refer to the blog a few times and admit that I have selected a few of my favorite posts, which are already included in the manuscript. To me, the book and the blog are linked because they are both extensions of myself. That being said, there is a lot of shit I wouldn't be blogging about right now if I knew my mother-in-law or Tia or Madrina were sitting down to read.

Like the word shit. Or my favorite potty mouth tag for when I say things like fuck.

And yes, both words are perfectly peppered throughout my manuscript for just the right amount of seasoning.

Which takes me back to why I've kept the book and the blog a secret from my family and yet shared it with the world.

  • You don't know me. So judge away. Point and laugh when I say something stupid or grimace when I talk about my weight. Either way, it's all good and we can still respect each other in the morning.
  • They do know me. Which means that if I had started this blog, or the book, knowing that Aunt Bonnie or Tia Elvia were going to be peaking over my shoulder to see how things were going, I would never have had the chance to get comfortable with my own voice. I would have automatically censored myself like I do at family functions. And that really would have made for voiceless writing.
  • By  the time La Familia gets wind of the book and the blog, I won't care. (Ok, so maybe I will, un poquito) I can make a big announcement warning them all that I say bad things on my blog and in my book and they've been warned so don't read it and bitch 'cuz it's not gonna change. And then they can peek and bitch and I can remind them I warned them and then they'll grumble and say things like "aye, Míja"and then we can all move on.

So really, it should all work out in the end.

And side note? This is me thanking the publishing industry for creating such a long and drawn out process for getting a book on the shelf at Borders or Barnes & Noble. And my muse, for drawing the process out even longer. Because really? The longer I have to prepare for the Mexican mess that's gonna come with La Familia learning I say fuck in public is not gonna be pretty.

So no, Heather. I don't regret anything.

Yet.