|The scene inside my blog|
This particular blog is about a mystery – which I’ll share with you. A while back, I added a tracker to my own blog. It puts little red dots over the world map and shows how I’m progressively colonising North America, the
UK, bits of
Europe and tiny pockets of land in Asia and Australasia.
But it also has a real-time option, which tells me more about my visitors, what
drew them to me and how long they spent in my company. As most writers will
tell you, they welcome anything which is merely a displacement activity but
gives you the impression that it’s time well spent. And this is where the
Forgive me now giving you a list of places but it’s part of the enigma. In the period I’m sampling for this posting, I had 2 visits from
(Airdrie and Johnstone) and 12 from England ( Manchester,
Preston, Keighley, Kidlington (4 visits) and (5)). The 12 English visits were
balanced by 12 from the London USA
(Bronson (3) and the wonderfully named Nacogdoches
(2) – both in Texas, Brooklyn ( New York) Hayward and San Francisco ( California),
Missoula and Plains ( Montana),
Seattle and . There were 4 from Tampa Australia (Hunters Hill and Greenwich
– both in New South Wales – and 2 visits from , which I mistook first
of all for a name and wondered whether I’d ever met a Victoria Elwood. And
last, but definitely not least, came people from Elwood, Victoria Bombay
(Maharashtra), Makati ( Manila)
and 4 visits from the truly exotic Minnertsga, Friesland.
OK, you say, so what? Well, to begin with, rather than being drawn there by my magnetic personality, infinite charm and quiet desperation, many came simply in search of an answer to the question ‘What makes a good novel?’ which was the title of one posting. But that’s merely an aside because it’s the 5 visitors I haven’t yet mentioned whose details hint at the central mystery.
The first came from Birmingham (UK) and stayed for a mere 26 seconds. The next was from the City of
London and stayed slightly
longer (42 seconds) and the third, from Riverton ( ) was here for 51 seconds. If I ever
meet the final two, I owe them a drink because they stayed long enough to read
something. The one from Amsterdam, Noord-Holland lingered a whole 3 minutes 11
seconds but the champion came from Englewood, Colorado and wasted an enormous 6
minutes 37 seconds of his/her life in my company. Wyoming
Again, so what? Well, this is where my crime writer’s curiosity comes into play. I know the time and date the last 5 arrived, and when they left. But what about all the others? The ones in the first list? There’s no indication that any of them left.
SO THEY MUST STILL BE THERE.
But where? What are they doing? Some have been there for days. What are they eating? How are they surviving? Are their bosses and families missing them? It’s a huge responsibility for me to know that my wit and wisdom have ensnared so many. I’ll have to start leaving plates of biscuits there and cans of some sort of beverage. And what if the influx continues? We’re all aware of the dangers of overpopulation. What if Oxfam and the Red Cross start sending food parcels and medical supplies? Can Médecins sans Frontières operate inside a blog?
Don’t get me wrong. My blog welcomes immigrants but, for their own safety they need to be led towards the more seemly locations – the jokey bits not the bits about existentialism. I don’t want them to be hi-jacked by some rogue philosopher who’s camped there and may force them to consider Aristotelian syllogisms day after day or read Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason.
I must find them soon and see if they can’t be repatriated or transferred to a blog whose sanity is uncompromised, where laughter, poetry and common sense prevail. I wonder if there are any.