Okay, if you ever get an email where the subject line says ‘congrats, you’ve been freshly pressed’, do not automatically send it to the trash folder assuming it’s just another clever piece of junk mail. Just sayin’.

Wait! Do not delete!
Instead of madly retrieving crucial mail, maybe check the sender’s name by say, a Google search or checking the supposedly being Freshly Pressed post ‘likes’. It’s likely that name is there too, in which case, let out a big breath and semi-whisper WTF?
For non-bloggers, Freshly Pressed is a showcase on our host website, WordPress.com. It’s the site where they feature editors’ picks and community favorites to a following of millions of writers.
If you’re like me, you will then re-read that email repeatedly. After that, it starts to sink in and then, really? Will what I blurted out in a moment of bravery inspired by an hour of heroism by someone else matter that much to other people?
WordPress Editor Cheri Lucas Rowlands thought so, and I’m deeply grateful that her take on people sharing vulnerabilities is that it’s important and a path to understanding.
So, before I knew that Cheri had, however miraculously, set her eyes on my post, (103 People Unfriended Her…) I calculated that a total of 50 of my loyals would read it. Freshly Pressed sent it shooting past thousands of eyes. Kind of heady stuff.
Anyway, it is quite an experience, and natch, I took notes as I rode the “FP” roller coaster.
Seeing as how mine was pressed the day after the Oscars, it felt like an extension of the awards. Hey, this IS my Oscar.
Anyhoo, once pressing is done, you know you’re going to get more readers than usual, and you do, lots of new viewers.
One notification came that totally cracked me up, “Your blog, Blog Woman!!!, appears to be getting more traffic than usual”!
You get the coveted blue Freshly Pressed badge in your Widget tools. Way cool. It’s added to your collection once the post is pressed.
Without a doubt, what was really, really outstanding, were the comments. The overwhelming support for the point of my post was heartrending. The amount of thoughtfulness is amazing. The humor, the sincerity, the straightforward opinions are just beautiful. Each comment touches my heart for its own reason.
All those comments and only one that I didn’t know how to take. Joke or jerk? I published it anyway.
I got a really good look at how many blog names are incredible, amazing, and hilarious. Oh you witty writers.
If, like me, you get a kick at seeing the notification box light up orange, you’re really going to like the first few hours of being pressed. You can just sit and stare as that little box lights up with each blink – like the cats that love that red dot.
Anyway, all those eyes! Thousands! Wow, right? Little reality check – reading is not the same as liking. In fact, the stats say roughly 10-15% of the overall readers hit that like button or commented.
On the other hand, those 10-15 percenters were damned overwhelming with how much they opened up. As I read through them, I thought this must be what the Ellens and Oprahs feel like when they come out from behind the curtains and feel a whoosh of emotion so moving, that I’m surprised any hair or make-up stays on.
Then, some of those 10-15 percenters also perused my other not Freshly Pressed posts. That was also awesome sauce, and their comments were absolutely uplifting on those too.
Oh, and seeing new followers, well, what’s a higher compliment than that?
Finally, my agent (AKA 12 yr. old son) said that when I go on Ellen (he’s determined to get me there), I better have a thank you list, and he’d better be #1 on it!
So, thank you all so much for this fantastical ride, it’s been stunning fun so far. … And to my agent, I am nothing without you.
Could I also leave you with this 4 minute video that happened to show up on my Facebook page this week? It couldn’t be a better example of the definition of what is beauty. It is by Oscar winner Lupita N’yongo. I believe that most of you exhibited that to me in your comments. It’s taken me one more step away from “the seduction of inadequacy”.
Dare you to keep a dry eye:
RL