I've been dragging my feet about mentioning this, but some of you sharp-eyed people may have noticed that on Wednesday morning I added a badge for MetaxuCafe over there in the right-hand column. Yes, I've joined the brand-new litblog network everyone's buzzing about.
I felt like a fraud when I signed up, but as I do occasionally blog about books other than my own, and since the (usually) infallible Terry Teachout has put me on his "Sites to See" list under "Litbloggers," I am almost qualified to join the new community. So I took a deep breath and jumped in, certain that Bud Parr would be far too busy getting the new site off the ground to review my credentials and toss me out on my ear.
No, I don't hold an MFA. And I don't read much in the way of contemporary literary fiction. But what really marks me as a faux litblogger is the fact that I've never had lunch with Neil Gaiman, like everybody else in the literary blogosphere seems to have done. I don't have Ron Hogan's home phone number, either.
Some will call me a poseur, an upstart who flirts with litblogging but doesn't commit. But if anyone asks me what I think I'm doing on the same website as Mark Sarvas and Scott Esposito. I'll just stick my thumb in my mouth and go all wide-eyed and point to Terry.
Classy B.J. Hoff and swell guy Chris Mikesell have both tagged me for the Meme of Sevens. I don't like memes, the blogosphere's equivalent of chain letters, although I did lose my head earlier this year, when I posted this one. I'm not going to play this time, but thanks, friends, for thinking of me.