In the movie, Dances With Wolves, where John Dunbar has found an old skeleton on the prairie, the late Robert Pastorelli as Timmons says: "I'll bet someone back east is going, 'Now why don't he write?'"
Last night, as I fed my new addiction, reading 'just one more blog...' I opened my own page to check my hit counter. I watched in utter amazement as the digits inched toward 200 hits right there before my eyes! Just as amazing was the other counter which tells me how many, if any, people are visiting my site at that moment. There were 9! Nine people were reading my Blog! Wheeee! I wanted to know who they were. I wanted to hear their reaction to my posts. I wanted to invite them over for wine and cheese. I sat back and waited for the email notification telling me that someone had left me a comment. And I waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing.
Intellectually, I know from reading other peoples blogs, and their comments, that the percentage of responders is really low in relation to readers. For whatever reason, I don't respond to every post I read either. Emotionally though, in a maternal way toward my new baby blog, just starting to gather readers, I felt ignored, a little like the people back east, waiting for a letter from a skeleton on the prairie.