An Amusing Note In My Personal Evolution

When I made an entry detailing my first professional publication, I got 94 comments congratulating me.  Now, admittedly, I made a big ol’ entry that told a story about how hard this tale was for me to write and what it meant and had a picture of me triumphantly holding up a T-shirt, but that was a lot of comments.
These days, when I announce a sale – even a big one – I’m lucky if I break ten comments.
This is, weirdly enough, an encouraging thought.  Because I suspect a lot of the comments on that first post were inspired by “We’ve watched you fail for so long, and now you’ve finally done it!  That’s amazing!  Good for you!”  It was a release of the bottled-up tension you could feel in this journal, the pop of a champagne cork, the sound of a man leveling up.
These days, selling a story – even at pro rates – is a nice thing for me, but hardly unusual.  I’ve become enough of a writer that, well, it’s expected of me.  I’ve evolved from “Hey, you did it!” to “That’s what you do” – and even though it’s still a surprise to me every time, it’s no longer a surprise to you.
I actually feel good about it, even though this is the trough of a newer journey; now I have to evolve from 7 comments from mostly-friends to 94 comments from fans going “OMG I LOVE YOUR STORIES WHEN CAN I SEE THIS?” – which will take a while, if at all.  But I’m in the stagecoach, bumping along the trail, making progress.
Speaking of fannish activities, I should like to remind you that:

• If you didn’t get a chance to read it, “My Father’s Wounds” is still up at Beneath Ceaseless Skies and can always use some love in the comment threads;
• I’ll be arriving at Reno WorldCon tomorrow, if anyone wants to meet up for a drink or two.  I’m on a single panel because I was too shy to ask to be put on panels at a place where there are real writers hanging about who would doubtlessly laugh at me if they saw me in person.  Yes, I’m still ludicrously insecure, even though I’ve been on panels with real writers many times at Penguicon and ConFusion.  DO NOT QUESTION MY NEUROSES.