This is my sad little blog. The older brother blog that always gets neglected for the cuter, more fun little sibling blog.
I’m sorry for neglecting you. But everyone has neglected me. So I guess it was bound to happen. You were bound to fall off the face of the planet. As much as I’m in an absolute love affair with Barefoot Books, to the point that every so often a tear wells in the corner of my eye when I open my closet and see you there, which leads to me sniffing the books and hugging them and kissing them (while nobody is watching, of course). …
So since the books were to be the sole purpose for this blog, I’ve let it go because I’ve let the bookselling go.
Or at least I’ve let it slide.
I haven’t sold a book in months. Well, I take that back. I inadvertently have sold a few on my Web site, but that doesn’t count. I didn’t even try to do that. It just happens once in a while.
I’m sorry, my first blog. You were my best friend at one time. I still love you. I still have a fondness in my heart for you. I still wish more than anything that people actually READ you and READ the books and wanted to BUY them. But for some reason, Hoosiers have proven to me time and again to be NOT AT ALL INTERESTED in buying books for their children.
Which makes me sad and sick and angry and confused.
I love childrens books so much I want to sniff them and hug them and chew on them and eat them up.
I already said that, didn’t I?
Well, that’s how much I love them.
So I’ll keeep all the Barefoot Books I have in boxes in my closet. I’ll keep the adorable puppets and fun puzzles and great CDs as well.
They’re all mine. YOU CAN’T HAVE THEM.
There. Maybe by telling you you CAN’T have them, you’ll WANT them.
Did it work?
