When I started my book project, the online course I took to learn how to self-publish advised going on Substack and inviting people to read your drafts. He said to invite 100 people. Well, all I had the stomach for was to invite about 15 people--my family. As you know, I haven't even given you guys the link, although at this point I probably will soon, now that the following has happened.
I love being on Substack because except for those 15 people I invited no one knows me. I do use my real name, but that's OK, because no one knows me. The nature of my project requires that I write it as a quasi-memoir of my own journey to a simpler life but I only use what I absolutely need to from my own life to make a point. The one chapter that I wrote that was really more "self-help" and less "self-indulgence" garnered criticism from my DIL who said she really wanted to know more about my story. So I've been working on that. It's hard for me. You guys are the only ones I blab to about all areas of my life. But again, this site is very comfortingly anonymous.
So anyway, a couple of weeks ago, an old friend from my teen years reconnected with me, and we did a couple of back and forth emails catching up on life. It was fun, but that was that. But all of a sudden I got an email that this person subscribed to my Substack! How did they know about it?? They must have googled me and unfortunately I forgot that if I'm on Substack, I'll come up in searches.
Now I'm very self-conscious. I know I need to get over that. On a scale of 1-10, where 10 is a "I'm an open book" and 1 is "If I throw a towel over my head, will you still be able to see me?" I'm probably a 3.
How about you? How private a person are you IRL? If you had to write a memoir of your life, would you enjoy sharing it, or would it terrify you?