The Dangers of Googling
So, yesterday I broke down and did what I’m pretty sure no author should ever do. I Googled myself. Now, I know what you’re thinking. What the heck, Rachel? Why on earth would you possibly want to know what other people think about you? And the truth is, other than retorting back with “Wouldn’t you want to Google yourself if you thought something interesting might come up????”, I really don’t know. I guess the temptation of knowing whether everyone else is as nice as all my readers are is what really got to me. That’s right, I secretly desired to read a review slamming my book and hurling on me every non-explicit insult imaginable. Whatever the case is, I decided to do it anyway.
I really should just end this post there, and leave you all wondering what I found. But I won’t. Because somebody might as well benefit from the knowledge I gained after ten minutes of checking myself out. No, I didn’t find a list of insults about me (darn!), but I did read a couple interesting reviews and got a lot of great constructive criticism about me and my book. Here is what I discovered about myself online:
1. No one seems to know my real age. On several different blogs, I am referred to as sixteen, fifteen, and even thirteen. I guess I can forgive that, since any age under eighteen is probably pretty much the same to adults. At least I didn’t come across a rumor that I was really a forty-seven-year-old male living in Idaho or anything creepy like that.
2. Just about everyone likes Charlie and Irene in my book. For some reason, that makes me happy.
3. A lot of non-Christians are reading my book and still loving it. I just think that’s fantastic. Because Interrupted is a religious book, I was worried that a lot of people would be angry and offended, but I haven’t heard anyone say yet that it’s too preachy or intense. One Jewish girl even wrote that she liked it, which I think is great. 🙂
4. I should never put a picture of myself online. The same three photos seem to be circulating around all the blogs and websites. This is unfortunate because I have decided that I really dislike how I look in one of those pictures. This is extremely vain and petty of me, obviously. But all important, meaningful thoughts seem to fly out of my head when I see a photo of myself and all I can think is: Why didn’t someone tell me to do something else with my hair??? Surely you’ve felt the same way…
Anyway, the moral of all this is that I should go have some ice cream now. Not for any particular reason other than having ice cream is a great moral for any story, if you think about it. I should eat ice cream and never Google myself again. Well, for a week at least.