There’s a little freebie-web-counter attached to this page, which I check occasionally and it lists the location people are looking at the site from (not addresses, which’d be great, wouldn’t it? The last person who clicked lives at 123 Mornington Crescent, here’s a picture of his house on Google streetmap).
Anyway, I checked it this evening just to have a look and was quite surprised at what came out.
One reader is in New Delhi, which I assume is my old friend Richard Wright. Two different addresses in Tasmania (where my fan Jamie comes from), but three in Australia too (I think I only know one Aussie, so that’s interesting). Somebody in Malta is dropping by and so is someone else in Moscow. There’s a smattering from the UK (see you at Fcon!) and the same in the States (both coasts and the Midwest).
When I first started writing, it amazed me that people took my stuff to publish it. Then, even though I knew that somebody who wasn’t related or a friend liked my stuff, I was amazed when I saw letters in small press magazines which picked out my particular story for mention.
Then the Internet hit and suddenly having a website seemed like a good idea – nay, for a writer, it seemed like a very good idea. So I set one up with Homestead, then another using freespace I got from BT and now I have this one. Sometimes, it feels like I’m writing stuff down to get it out of my head but nobody else is looking. My stats, it would appear, suggest otherwise.
We take this for granted now, that we converse with people on the other side of the world and we laugh and joke and have arguments, but back in the day that wasn’t the case. Then, I used to wait for the post to see if a story had been accepted, or rejected, or if a new magazine had arrived – safe and secure in the knowledge that apart from my Mum, Dad, sisters and wife, not many other people knew I wrote. Now, I write things about my life, about Matthew, about writing and about Gene Genie and people on the other side of the world drop by to have a look.
So I’d like to take this opportunity to thank you, for reading this – I hope that it makes you feel better to know that it makes me feel better to realise I’m not just shouting into the void with all of this.
Anyway, I checked it this evening just to have a look and was quite surprised at what came out.
One reader is in New Delhi, which I assume is my old friend Richard Wright. Two different addresses in Tasmania (where my fan Jamie comes from), but three in Australia too (I think I only know one Aussie, so that’s interesting). Somebody in Malta is dropping by and so is someone else in Moscow. There’s a smattering from the UK (see you at Fcon!) and the same in the States (both coasts and the Midwest).
When I first started writing, it amazed me that people took my stuff to publish it. Then, even though I knew that somebody who wasn’t related or a friend liked my stuff, I was amazed when I saw letters in small press magazines which picked out my particular story for mention.
Then the Internet hit and suddenly having a website seemed like a good idea – nay, for a writer, it seemed like a very good idea. So I set one up with Homestead, then another using freespace I got from BT and now I have this one. Sometimes, it feels like I’m writing stuff down to get it out of my head but nobody else is looking. My stats, it would appear, suggest otherwise.
We take this for granted now, that we converse with people on the other side of the world and we laugh and joke and have arguments, but back in the day that wasn’t the case. Then, I used to wait for the post to see if a story had been accepted, or rejected, or if a new magazine had arrived – safe and secure in the knowledge that apart from my Mum, Dad, sisters and wife, not many other people knew I wrote. Now, I write things about my life, about Matthew, about writing and about Gene Genie and people on the other side of the world drop by to have a look.
So I’d like to take this opportunity to thank you, for reading this – I hope that it makes you feel better to know that it makes me feel better to realise I’m not just shouting into the void with all of this.
And in writing news, “david and the clowns” might have a new title – “come see my house in the pretty town”. Clever, eh, the two titles don’t appear to have anything at all to do with each other, do they?
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