OK, it turns out that I started writing this blog four years ago; the first post was in March 2007. I wrote every day for a while in a somewhat obsessive manner, and looking back on that period the main thing I remember is how much I liked doing it, but also how exhausting it was. It was just not acceptable that I wouldn’t update one day. I couldn’t deal with it. I had a full-time job, plus as much of a life as any of us has and also this side project which, in fact, was my main preoccupation on each day. I was so involved in this and it drove me a little bit crazy, but there we go. I’ve crawled back into relative sanity now. Thinking back I would have guessed that this updating daily thing lasted a whole lot longer than it actually did. I really does feel like I spent half a decade doing it. In fact, looking at the dates I wrote every day between March 2007 and October 2008. Not such a big deal after all.
I’m sure there’s a combination of reasons why I wrote London Preppy : Because I like writing? Because I’m self-obsessed and hungry for attention? Because I’m insecure and seek validation? Because I saw it as a way out of whatever aspects of my life I wasn’t keen on? Because I was bored? Because it got more addictive as more people visited? Probably all the above. The point is that very few things have had as much of an impact in my life as writing London Preppy did. Things I directly influenced, controlled and was solely responsible for anyway.
I know that being proud of something is not a cool angle and I know that perhaps there really isn’t anything to be proud about. But on a certain straightforward, non-ironic level, I’m pleased for the effect London Preppy has had in my life. I’m kinda happy when random people that I don’t know still come up to me and mention they used to read the blog and I’m kinda happy when I see the number of visits it’s had in the last four years (I’m confident that at least some of the 1.2 million hits are not directly from my own IP addresses). And most of all I’m pleased that it gave me the opportunity to write my own novel, and that a publisher actually wanted to put it out.
I’m not sure exactly what the purpose of posting this was. I finished writing Exit Through The Wound two days ago, and I wanted to write something that wasn’t fictional / in the same narrative as that. So I thought I’d write a blog about blogging, now that blogging is dead. Plus I basically wanted to thank everyone who’s spent even three seconds (cumulatively) in the last four years visiting this site, or thought, read, talked about London Preppy at one point or another, because this is clearly the reason why my novel happened. And I’m deluded enough for this to be a bit of a big deal to me.
*Regrets group hug and pulls back timidly*
PS. This is not the writing style of the book, by the way. I did not write it on Prozac.