Pssst…

Hey, buddy.  Over here.  Do you want to buy a blog?  It’s great, I’m telling you.  Really spicy, controversial stuff.  The truth about marriage and divorce and passionate love affairs and stuff.  You’re going to eat it up, I’m telling you. But there’s one catch.  It ain’t free.  Monetizing is the name of this game.  If you’ve got the cash, I’ve got the content.   But hey, what’s that to a big shot like you, right? Okay, here’s where you sign up. Thanks, buddy.  You won’t be sorry.  I’m telling you.

And then I snap out of it.

For months now I’ve been fantasizing about this.  I stop people on the street and sell them a new, dishy, steamy, outrageous, adults only pay-per-view version of Letter From Elba 2.0

Sure it’s all just a pipe dream, but lately I have been thinking about a new, more private, less wholesome version.

When I first went into the blogging biz, I had no real game plan.  I did it for my own amusement- and, hopefully, that of my would-be audience.  Nothing more.  It was a no-holds-barred proposition.  No expectations.  But more importantly, no rules.

Except those governing libel.

Sidebar Sidebar: When I first started writing for the Pioneer Press, my then husband had me meet with attorney Paul Levy of Deutsch, Levy and Engel.  Paul gave me a complete tutorial in the subject of libel law.  I think he represented The Star and other tabloids at the time, and he knew his onions.  Even though I was protected by the Sun Times, Bill didn’t want to have someone come after us personally.

And I never wanted to slander anyone, so I listened carefully and played by the rules. The same rules that now hold true as I started up my new column on the Internet.

Although the technology had changed, basic libel laws hadn’t and you still couldn’t cause a person damage to his livelihood or say that he gave you a disfiguring disease or something.  Common sense stuff like that.

And you can’t lie.

In libel law, the truth is your greatest ally- and your best defense.

No problem there.  I didn’t have to lie.  My own life story was compelling enough, I thought, without any embellishment.  In fact, I have to leave stuff out all the time.  No one would believe some of the things that happen to me on a regular basis.

And the blog was a hit.  My subscriber list grew with every passing month and I was thrilled and touched by its acceptance into your hearts.

But then a funny thing happened.

As the readership grew, it started to change.  And the subscribers went from a list made up of friends and family to friends-of-friends, and finally, complete strangers to me.

And the list got impressive, too.

I now had doctors, lawyers, foundations heads, prominent people in the arts, media types, business tycoons… and I started to feel a sea change.

My wild and wooly little venture had suddenly become respectable.

And I started to think twice before I typed.  A deadly disease for a writer, believe me.

I wasn’t trying to second-guess my audience, but let’s just say that I was very aware that my readers were pillars of the community.  Serious, responsible types who probably wouldn’t enjoy dish or a dig about an ex spouse- or two.

And trust me on this one.  I now have more men readers than women.  The LAST thing they want to read is some snarky, smart-alecky wisecrack from an ex wife early on a Sunday morning. (They probably have one of those of their own.)  I get it.

Suddenly I was worried about what my new readers would think of me.  I wanted them to like me and approve of me and I found myself writing about puppies and kittens and unicorns and rainbows and..

Well ok, maybe it never got that bad.  But I got hamstrung creatively by the fact that I figured these successful big shots- who I didn’t know- probably only wanted to read about good news.

I just can’t do that.  My life- and maybe yours- is not only about good news.

I don’t have to be a harridan or a harpy, and I don’t want to bully or embarrass anyone, but I’m no Pollyanna, either.  Life isn’t always what we’d like it to be, and sometimes I just have to call a spade a spade.

And I don’t believe in unicorns.

So here’s my question:

Should I start a once a week “double secret probation for your eyes only” blog?

And would you want to read the new, less PG/PC version?

Oh, and one more thing, dear readers.

If I do start the secret beta version, I will be giving out one free subscription to Letter From Elba 2.0 to the lucky subscriber who best fills in this blank:

“Before Ellen Ross dies, she ___________.”

Illinois contest rules may apply.  And the decision of the judge is final.

Enter now.

Okay, buddy?