When I found out that I had made the [TIG] page for my recent post on How (Not) To Install a Ceiling Fan, I was really happy – I really enjoyed writing that post, but I also put some hard work into it to get it to turn out the way I wanted. It was one of the few pieces I've written lately that I actively wanted to share with my family, so I did just that. I sent the link to the post to some of my family who live out of town, and printed out a copy to show to the local family when we got together over the weekend. I thought the responses to my sharing my piece with them were quirky enough on their own to warrant their own post:
My Father-in-Law (via email): Looks like you missed your calling. (I still can't decide if he meant this sarcastically re: installing the fan, or genuinely re: writing.)
My Mother (via email): Clever.
My Wife: That's great, Honey. (She's my biggest supporter, as you can tell.)
My Sister-in-Law: That's really funny, Ross. And it's funny because it's true.
My Mother-in-Law: That is too funny. You should submit that somewhere! (Enter explanation of blogs and the fact that I have one.)
My other Sister-in-Law: This is hilarious! Where did you find this? Wait, you wrote it? No, seriously? Wow, it's really good. You're very creative, you could write some stories or something.
My Mother (over the phone): I did like your story about installing the ceiling fan. I was so surprised to see how many people left you notes. Do people actually read what you write? How do they know that you are writing things? Wow. (I think she was more impressed that someone out there sometimes actually reads what I'm writing, rather than any quality in the content of the piece itself.)
So there you have it. My family genuinely supports me, but apparently I'm leading a secret double-life online at Vox that they're relatively unaware of and/or have little interest in participating in. Which is OK by me, as I never really intended this blog as a means of communicating with my family – I'll just be happy if/when they do read something, and I'll remember that they're around when I do need them, which is the most important thing and one of the parts about them that I value the most.
