Back in 2009, long before kale, kombucha and the Kardashians, there were blogs. There was little talk of IG, AI, YOLO or FOMO for that matter. E.T. (as in “E.T. go home” still the most popular acronym). Bloggers dominated until…they didn’t. Video killed the radio star with the help of Twitter and sushi + unicorn emojis.
I put the blog brakes on a while back and shifted to everyone’s favourite time warp, Facebook. I posted guinea pigs wearing small hats, and reviews of quirky places to sleep–like the treepods at Treetop Haven in Mount Tryon, PEI or a grain silo in Moosejaw, SK. Of course, these kinds of things are/were squeezed in between dramatic photo coverage of attempting Martha Stewart’s pancake hack: sheet pan pancakes.
I hoped no one would ever send me a notification indicating how many hours I had spent mindlessly Facebooking. Those (estimated) 154,698 hours could have been put to better constructive use–like, inventing sheet pan pancakes before ol’ Martha. Or, writing a book, perhaps.
If you were following my bouncing ball back in late 2017, you might remember that I was inspired to write a book (I’d like to thank the guinea pig wearing the tweed flat cap for the motivation). I self-published my memoir, Free to a Good Home, and thrust it upon friends and family (provided they ponied up the $25 first). Though the instant gratification of self-publishing had its guaranteed high, I decided to set the bar higher, and try to swing from it despite my below average gymnastic skills. *Do not let me ever attempt a somersault or cartwheel, no matter the sum of money or promise of free beer.
After email-stalking the publisher at Caitlin Press about publishing my book in the legit, authentic, bonafide Maggie Atwood-style, she said yes! I can only imagine that this is what the lipsticked, tarted up women on The Bachelor feel like at the rose ceremony. Finally, Vici Johnstone handed me the rose! (Though I’d prefer a nice rosé instead.)
I’ll have to adjust making Martha’s cheater pancakes as impending bestseller fame might prevent me from idle stove top pancake-flipping. While I admittedly still get sucked into Facebook quicksand and dolled up guinea pigs (really, check out @fuzzberta) on a rainy day, it’s with purpose now. It’s all about #branding. You can follow me on my shiny new author page on Facebook: @julestortiwriter
You can also order the super redux-version of my memoir Free to a Good Home: With Room For Improvement on Amazon or All Lit Up, or directly through Caitlin Press! It took 44 years to create and share this book–just like Amish Friendship bread starter and The Young & The Restless (time stamp: March 26, 1973).
I know what you’re thinking…”Well, I’ve read Michelle Obama’s memoir Becoming–isn’t this book going to be identical? Will I be able to relate? If you’re on the picket fence, read the following statements aloud. Do they resonate?
1. I have put together a piece of Ikea furniture with a *&%$ Allen key.
2. I have moved so many times that my postal codes create their own alphabet.
3. I love old dogs, old people and old houses.
4. I have an ex. I am an ex. I’m with my ex again.
See? It’s a familiar pattern of roommates, girlfriends, old dogs, ex-girlfriends, older dogs. Moving. Packing. Moving.
Just add cold pizza and warm beer.
Bonus features of Free to a Good Home: Learn how to to live in a barn for an entire year! Discover how to survive a 88-house-long real estate journey without becoming homicidal (and/or an Amazon Prime exclusive documentary). Gain access to Jann Arden’s secret egg nog recipe…and a heck of a lot more. Like, how to prep breakfast for 26 chimps in the Congo (really).
Thank you to all of you who supported by blog blabbing for nearly a decade. Thank you for bothering to click the link and for reading right to the bitter end. If you’re like me, you read the scrolling movie credits too, because you just never know…
Movie credits for the film adaptation of Free to a Good Home (when optioned by Reese Witherspoon) will read:
Jodie Foster as Jules Torti
Jamie Lee Curtis as Kim Kenny
Jann Arden and her egg nog as herself and itself