I built this website a couple of years ago in an effort to illustrate to potential agents that I have some marketing abilities. For the most part, it has been a bit of a playground because I know that a scant amount of people visit. Thus, I am blissfully free to make mistakes, change things, and experiment without much fear of what people will think—who's going to see?
The trouble is, I'm not treating myself as a winner. If I don't believe anyone wants to visit naomishibles.com,
then why would anyone imagine they should?
I plan to succeed as a fiction writer, so I'd better start acting like it.
That leads me to my website: it has information about my book, Sandy the Stingray, and my unpublished manuscript, Birthday Ranch. Visitors can even see some of my doodles and learn where to contact me. But, there's nothing about who I am.
I've put some sentences on the homepage that needle me enough with triteness that I delete them. I can't fathom what someone might want to know about me wearing my children's writer hat, and feel so unremarkable. Conversely, I share interesting details about myself, and it seems like I'm overbearing or trying too hard.
Then, I fret that there's nothing creepier than a person devoting whole webpages to their own legend. That's not me. Then again, when I really love a book, I want to learn everything about the genius who put those ideas out into the universe.
But, I'm not a storytelling genius—I'm not even published (in the middle grade genre) yet! I certainly haven't made a fortune writing fiction, so that means I'm not of interest to anyone, right? Well, maybe. But maybe, someday soon, I will be.
So, my friends, if you're out there reading this, I'm not intrepid, but I can be brave. You'll know I've succeeded by reading more about me *here*.