Some people get dressed up and go clubbing, or dancing, or wining and dining. I get dressed up and go writing. I’m a crazy party animal. – Me

Part of the self-branding process is developing a likable social media image. I’ve been cultivating a carefully sardonic and only vaguely writing-related persona via Twitter. Follow me for more bad jokes @Olivia_LaBianca.


Today I was tabling for a writers conference I am helping to organize. A young man came up and asked about it. He seemed enthusiastic, declaring himself an avid writer interested in publication.

“We are featuring a workshop where you pitch your manuscript idea to real life editors and agents,” I said. “It’s a great way to get feedback.”

His face went blank. “No,” he said flatly. “My book is a book. I know it’s a book and no one can tell me it isn’t.” With that, he walked away.

As he left, I couldn’t help but think: There is someone who will never actually publish. 


Mostly I think I write because I want to share all my crazy ideas and half-baked observations. The only way these will be taken seriously is if they are published in book form. Otherwise, I’ll simply be a very odd, talkative, annoying person.


Sometimes stories are like naughty children. No matter how many times you put them to bed and shut the light, they pop back up and run out of their little room again, crying ‘Pay attention to me! Write about me next!’

I suppose the only way to get rid of these annoying brainchildren is to simply write their stories. It will give you something to do in the meanwhile, and who knows, maybe something great will come of it?