Welcome to the new Rubber Tramp Artist site. It’s still me, Blaize Sun, sharing my stories, rants, and observations.
Rubber Tramp Artist used to be Throwing Stories Into the Ether. Although almost a year ago when I started writing, I really did feel as if I was sending my words out into the clouds, I now know I have readers (followers, even). The new name, Rubber Tramp Artist, says more about me and my life (and is shorter and–hopefully–easier to remember).
If you are a subscriber, thank you. I’ve transferred my subscribers to this new site. However, if you don’t get a notification of a post from me tomorrow, you can scroll down this page and subscribe again
I’ve transferred all the previous posts here, so you should be able to find your old favorites (or click around and see what I’ve been up to, if you are a new reader).
I wouldn’t be on this beautiful new page right now if it hadn’t been for the help of a dear computer-savvy friend. (Thank you.)
Thanks also to all of my readers, especially the folks who took time to write comments.
I hope 2016 is great for us all.
I thought that today I would share a review of a book I got through BookMooch several years ago. I think the book was already kind of old when I wrote this review in February of 2012. However, I like the review, so there you go.
The book in question is I’m Not the New Me, by Wendy McClure.
This is a book about writing a blog. It doesn’t contain the writing that makes up the blog. It’s just about the process of writing the blog. Well, that’s not quite right. It’s about more than just the process of writing a blog.
It’s about body image and self esteem and what it means if a woman’s fat and she decides she wants to lose some weight. It’s about deciding how much weight to lose. How much weight is enough?
It’s about dating. It’s about meeting a guy and getting dumped before you can dump him and being sad because he dumped you first, even though, really, it’s for the best. It’s about going on dates with loser loser loser, then meeting the best guy ever only to end up heartbroken again.
It’s about friendship and being an inspiration to people never met in person.
It’s about being funny and charming and smart, but having people just see fat. And it’s about saying “Fuck You!” to people who only see fat.
Wendy McClure is funny. Think Sarah Vowell, but with more cursing and less patriotism. There were times I had to quit reading because I was eating and was about to laugh and snarf my breakfast all over the table.
The book ends without any big revelation, so don’t come here looking for the Answers. Wendy doesn’t have your Answers. Maybe she has a couple of her own, but she leaves you fully in charge of figuring your life out for yourself.
It’s not my first blog. Some of you may remember that I started a blog in February 2013, fueled by anxiety and too much coffee. (Yes, I know, the coffee enhanced the anxiety.) That blog was through Google, and I never could get it to work right. Actually, I don’t think I ever tried to post again, after that first time. I hope to do better with this one.
Starting a blog was part of my two year plan. Not much else is going according to the plan, but at least I have control over this part of my life.
(Writing about a plan makes me think of my dear friend Mr. Carolina, with whom I traveled for two months in 2013. Whenever I asked him about his plans, he’s laugh uproariously. He wouldn’t even say a word, just laugh.)
I’ve got lots of ideas for things I want to write about. The problem is in the sitting down and actually writing. Maybe having an audience will help.