First, I have to say “Happy Birthday!” to my little guy. Hard to believe it, but he’s 4 years old today. Or 28 in dog years, which makes him older than me and Andy… But shh, don’t tell him that! He already tends to think he’s in charge.

Second, thanks to e-publishing Twenty-Somewhere, I would call myself an “accidental indie author,” and today I’m over at All Things Books as part of a month-long Indie Authors Bash. I ended up blogging about book covers, and how all books (traditional or indie) need to have good ones, because they are like the handshake of the publishing world. I’d be honored if you would hop over and show me and hostess Tanya some love. Danke!

Last but not least, my friend Angie wrote a great post about “The Power of Sharing,” and how her family has gradually opened up about her sister’s developmental disabilities. They even helped start a nonprofit for families who are caring for members with special needs. Angie has always humbled me with the love, patience, and concern she shows for her sister, so when she says that her parents are her inspiration, you can imagine how great they are.

Congrats, Torie Michelle, you win both of the September giveaway books! (Check your email, please.) Big thanks for participating. And the rest of you, seriously, you don’t want free books? I blame Amazon for finally allowing Kindle library borrowing.

…

The other day I read someone’s Twitter bio and laughed. Then I thought, Maybe I should change my bio to something funnier. But wait, I’m not good at funny! “Sorry, I don’t do funny.” Would that be funny? No, it wouldn’t… I guess my Twitter bio is okay. I mean, it’s friendly. And honest. And that pretty much sums me up.

This happens from time to time. This desire to be funny — or pretty — to be memorable, really — creeps up on me occasionally. But I’m not that person. I’m not Rachel Green, the fashionable, sexy girl that everyone hits on. And I’m not Chandler, with his sarcastic jokes, or Joey and Phoebe, with their silly quirks. I’m not the instant or usual favorite.

No, I’m Monica and Ross. I’m a Geller.

I’m a little bit nerd, a little bit weird. I don’t always say the right thing, and when I’m passionate about something, I can come on kind of strong. (Or awkward.) I’m close with my family, borderline spoiled, proud of my intelligence, yet surprisingly dumb/dense about things.

I also have shiny brown hair.

Basically, I’m someone you have to get to know in order to love. But once you do, we’ll probably be friends for life! That’s just how I roll.

And I’m okay with all that. Because contrary to what it sometimes feels like, life is NOT a popularity contest. At the end of the day, your happiness and self-worth are not going to be determined by the number of Twitter followers you have, or Facebook friends, or RSS subscribers, or daily pageviews, or whatever. Those are not the measurements that count. In fact, most of what counts can’t be measured at all.

(For example, it’s not the number of real life friends you have either. What matters is the quality of the relationships in your life, not the quantity.)

So embrace who you are. Even if who you are isn’t funny or pretty or retweet-worthy. Be memorable in your own way. Be you.

1. Don’t forget to comment on my September giveaway post for your chance to win ON BEAUTY by Zadie Smith or BROETRY by Brian McGackin! Right now only one person has entered… (Torie Michelle, you may end up winning both!)

2. Today I’m over at Writer Unboxed talking about bad/blah books and why I’ve learned to put them down. Some people come to this realization more quickly than I did, especially with bad books. But I want to stress here that I’m including BLAH books now too — the ones that are oh-kaay, and you kind of want to know what happens, but you’re just not enjoying reading them. For me, those are much harder to put down than flat-out bad books, but just as important to abandon (if not more so). Read the post to find out why.

It’s been a strange week for me. My dad and my aunt both underwent significant surgeries, and my boyfriend had a terrifying experience with Clear Air Turbulence on his business trip to South America. Meanwhile I’ve been home alone, wrestling with my thoughts and emotions about it all. Many times I’ve wanted to blog about what’s going on, but each time I sat down to do it, I found myself… hesitant, unable.

(For the record, both surgeries went well, and Andy has already flown twice since the CAT incident.)

The thing about the internet is, it’s forever. And also, it’s full of strangers. And though I may think I’m saying something harmless, I don’t really know who’s reading or how they might interpret my words.

In general, I’m not one of those people who fears that what they say will get twisted and shoved back in their face. I believe in the goodness and rationality of mankind. I figure that if someone misunderstands me — or even if I really do mess up and say something stupid — I can clarify and be forgiven. Life will go on.

Furthermore, who’s really listening, right? I’m not John Green or Heather Armstrong or Ashton Kutcher. I have my little circle of friends (you guys ROCK, btw) so what’s there to worry about?

Well, that’s where the “forever” part comes in. In real life, when we have late night conversations with our friends, where we ramble for so long that we start to forget what we’re saying even as it comes out of our mouths, it’s no big deal. We’re expressing a single thought in a single moment. Then the moment passes. Like a footprint in the sand, the thought has made it’s impression, and then it gets washed away. Harmless.

On the internet, moments don’t pass. They can be stumbled upon or searched for, days or weeks or years later. Even deleting your words doesn’t guarantee that they can’t be found. (Thanks, Google cache.) Maybe I’m not famous now. Maybe I don’t have enemies or “haters” yet. But maybe someday I will.

Look, I don’t believe in living my life in fear. But I also don’t believe in living in ignorance. So all I’m trying to say is, sometimes I don’t know how much to say.

(I realize that for something like health scares and traumatic plane rides, I’m probably safe. Short of crazies or trolls, no one’s going to attack me about that stuff. But this issue of “what you say online” has been on my mind for a while. And not just for my own blog, but also for comments, and discussions boards, and Twitter, and everything.)

It’s funny, because this is part of why we all blog, right? We want someone to read our words, to connect, to respond. It’s not about agreeing all the time (because wow, that’d be boring). It’s about sharing experiences, ideas, and opinions. It’s about learning and growing and feeling. It’s about adding our thread of life to this vast digital web.

So I’m not going to stop blogging, and I’m not going to stop getting personal. But I guess I just wanted to say that it’s not always easy. That there are valid concerns, and I don’t always know what to do about them. So I have to proceed as I would with anything else: the best I can, and with good intentions. Hopefully that’s enough.

Oops! I totally missed August. My bad, y’all. I’m also getting better about borrowing library books, which means that my bookshelves aren’t as strained as they used to be. Giveaways probably won’t be every month anymore.

Same rules as usual: Please leave a comment below and let me know which of these 2 books you’re interested in. If you’re interested in both, that’s fine. You have until the end of this month to enter, and then I’ll draw names at random and announce the winners on Mon, Oct 3rd. Must have US mailing address — sorry, international friends!

Images and descriptions courtesy of GoodReads.

On Beauty
By Zadie Smith

Howard Belsey is an Englishman abroad, an academic teaching in Wellington, a college town in New England. Married young, thirty years later he is struggling to revive his love for his African American wife Kiki. Meanwhile, his three teenage children — Jerome, Zora and Levi — are each seeking the passions, ideals and commitments that will guide them through their own lives.

After Howard has a disastrous affair with a colleague, his sensitive older son, Jerome, escapes to England for the holidays. In London he defies everything the Belseys represent when he goes to work for Trinidadian right-wing academic and pundit, Monty Kipps. Taken in by the Kipps family for the summer, Jerome falls for Monty’s beautiful, capricious daughter, Victoria.” But this short-lived romance has long-lasting consequences, drawing these very different families into each other’s lives. As Kiki develops a friendship with Mrs. Kipps, and Howard and Monty do battle on different sides of the culture war, hot-headed Zora brings a handsome young man from the Boston streets into their midst whom she is determined to draw into the fold of the black middle class — but at what price?

Broetry
By Brian McGackin

As contemporary poets deliver entire volumes on subjects like incest, menstruation, and pine cones, regular guys are left scratching their heads. Who will speak for Everyman? Who will articulate his love for Xbox 360, for Mama Celeste’s Frozen Pizza, for any movie starring Bruce Willis?

Enter Broetry. “Broet Laureate” Brian McGackin goes where no poet has gone before — to Star Wars conventions, to frat parties, to video game tournaments, and beyond. With poems like “Ode to That Girl I Dated for, Like, Two Months Sophomore Year” and “My Friends Who Don’t Have Student Loans,” we follow the Bro from his high school graduation and college experience through a “quarter-life crisis” and beyond. Packaged in a small gifty hardcover and illustrated with tasteful black and white illustrations, Broetry is a funny and sly look at modern masculinity.