As far as I can tell, the purpose of this New York Times article on bloggers with books is so people I know who read the Times but who don’t read blogs can clip it and and show it to me so I can tell them yes, that thing I do on the internet is a “blog,” and yes, I’ll explain what a blog is again, and yes, I can also vouch for the explanation in the Times, and yes, it’s a lot like the way I explained blogs to them the last time they asked me to explain what a blog was, yes, and no, I’m not in the article, but yes, it’s still true that I have a book coming out, and my blog, whatever it is, has something to do with it.

Just as an aside, I’m getting a little sick of the slightly backhanded compliment articles like these give, which is, in essence: Bloggers can actually write books, just as long as they don’t write about ew, blogging.

I need to tell you that the finale of America’s Next Top Model made me cry and cry. In a good way.

That is all.

Yes, there is a COMMENTS link below each post now. I think I’m doing this just for a little while, just in the last couple of weeks before poundy.com gets rebuilt. This way I’ll have the option to simply ditch them along with the old design instead of just shutting them off in a huff. Back when I started writing online, the “post a comment” feature wasn’t as common as it is now, and I still feel that only certain kinds of weblogs are suited for comments and reader discussion–and most of the time, mine isn’t one of them. But I wanted to at least try them, just for fun: I’m done with the book, the year is almost over, and I would love to hear from you guys.

And let me say right now that I am a BIG PETULANT BABY and if you post anything that hurts my pretty feelings or gets on my raw little nerves, I’ll probably just delete it. Life is too short.

Anyway: hello!

Sit tight. I�ve had an awful lot of emails to write and answer lately, and a lot of it has been book stuff, and while it’s all been good I don’t want my whole life to be just Book Stuff, because Gwen is totally right about how stunted and strange it makes you. I swear I have other things to tell you. Like I joined that gym I said I was thinking of joining! Uh-huh! I totally did! I’d tell you more except I didn’t go for like a month! Ha ha! Bet you can guess why! It starts with a “B”! Yeah. I really ought to develop that subplot of my life.

Speaking of single-mindedness one of the radio stations here in Chicago has been on an All Holiday Music All The Time format for weeks now already, which has felt a little weird to me, since I�m pretty sure the radio stations didn�t used to kick into A.H.M.A.T.T. mode until a week before Christmas. And I live for that shit, because there is nothing like the way a constant stream of Christmas music with all its jinglies and ringlies and mincemeat assortment of fa la ho ho ho rum pum pum syllables can turn whatever activity you happen to be doing just before Christmas into a cherished holiday memory, such as totally slacking off work because it�s almost Christmas! and getting your oil changed and finding the Jiffy Lube waiting room to be remarkably festive! So I worry about too much holiday music too soon, because what if I get too used to it and simply tune it out and my mid-to-late-December waking life loses the capacity to be lightly frosted with Christmasy goodness? So I�ve been saving my ears until now. And now I can talk about Christmas songs. In fact, I just might the rest of this week. Keep posted.

Dear trade paperback sales representatives, editorial and marketing staff at Riverhead Books and Penguin Putnam, booksellers, wholesalers, library buyers, book club people, members of the media, and maybe even Ira Glass, as well as various friends and family members of all of the aformentioned, and anyone else who happens to have a bound galley of my book:

Hello! And thank you for agreeing to read an advance copy of I’m Not the New Me! Or, if you didn’t explicitly agree to reading the book, for continuing to do whatever extremely sexy you do for a living that requires you to read galleys night after night. At any rate, I hope all of you enjoy reading your galley of I’m Not the New Me, my first book.

Please note this advance edition is FOR LIMITED DISTRIBUTION NOT FOR SALE, as indicated in the block letters on the bright red banner on the front cover, and in the two red banners on the back cover. You may also be aware that this is an UNCORRECTED MANUSCRIPT. While I understand that those of you who read galleys are well accustomed to seeing numerous print and even factual mistakes at this stage of the pre-publication process, and that really, you don’t mind if you can see where I drooled random punctuation and half-assed grammar all over the keyboard and where nobody bothered to clean it up for God’s sake, I am more than a tad mortified. And I know that reading the galley for a book is a lot like watching a dress rehearsal for a play, but all the same you�d hope the lead actress shaved her legs that day. Therefore I have begun to compile a list of all the typos and factual errors appearing in the galley edition of I’m Not the New Me in the hopes doing so will make your reading experience as pleasant as possible. Thank you. –WM

p. 3: We will fix that bad break at the top of the page. I mean, Jesus.

p. 41: There really should be commas after “thought” in Line 10 and “office” in Line 11.

p. 50: On the very last line on that page, the use of punctuation outside the word in quotation marks is wrong, unless you happen to be British. Then again, if you are British, the quotation marks are the wrong kind anyway. So I think the correct punctuation for the word in question, depending on who you are, can be ” ‘shitty,’ ” or ‘ “shitty”,’ or maybe even ‘shitty’, but definitely not ” “shitty”,.”

pp. 65-67, 69 Not sure if we can legally use the word “Slurpee” in this context. They’re checking.

p. 81: Lines 1, 2 and 4 should be in italics.

p 115: In Paragraph 2, the part that says “driving west towards the sun” is incorrect. Because I’m driving from Chicago to Pennsylvania in this chapter and going, you know, EAST. The corrected passage should say “driving east towards the sun,” and the scene in question should take place in the morning, even though technically it didn’t, because The Chicago Manual of Style does not advise reversing the earth’s rotation unless absolutely necessary.

p. 124, Line 1: I said “Louisville” but I meant “Knoxville.” You may have noticed that Louisville is not in Tennessee. Sorry. Knoxville. God.

p. 114: Typo in the first line, as I did not intend to actually say “anyβ.”

p. 177: Line 12 isn’t supposed to be indented like that. I’m sure you didn’t even notice, but still, it’s the principle of the thing.

p. 201: There’s a really bad break in Line 9. Oh, you’ll see.

p. 216-217: This part, starting with Paragraph 3, is really going to be a lot funnier in the published book.

p. 218: If you think the third sentence in the fourth paragraph ought to be in quotes, I have to agree.

p. 225, last line: You’d think I was retarded.

p. 226, Line 7: Or blind.

p. 227: Pretend Nathanael West’s first name is spelled correctly here. Thanks.

p. 242: There’s a word in Line 12 that looks as if I typed it with a goddamn stick held in my teeth.

p. 243: I know that “uncharacteristically” in that second paragraph is spelled correctly, but I swear to God, the more I stare at it, the weirder it looks. It really doesn’t sound like it should have as many letters as it does. I don’t know about you, but it’s starting to bother me.

p. 246: There should be a capital “L” in “Dom DeLuise.”

p. 246: Yes, Dom DeLuise. He’s in my book. Shut up.

p. 279: Line 3 should be “Sometimes,” not “Sø metimes,” but I bet you knew that.

p. 291: Please substitute “Cumberland Avenue” for “Golf Road,” even though in real life they are nowhere near each other and not in the least bit interchangeable.

p. 301: I may cut the word “fucking” in Line 3, so any offense taken here is provisional and must be checked against the bound book.

No, I didn’t put my book galley between my legs; I did that already. But I watched TV; I mean I even watched the commercials even though I could have fast-forwarded through them; I started reading a book, one of those really long hardcover books that’s a little too big to take with you on an trip when you already have to lug a laptop in your bag, the kind of book where there are dozens of characters and narrow margins and smallish type and therefore the kind of book that you can’t really read in ten-minute increments here and there when you’ve got ten minutes; you need to have the whole night ahead of you, and for the first time in months I have that. I don’t have a deadline and I don’t have to get on a plane somewhere, not unless I really want to. I drank wine this week, and I wasn’t doing it to get myself to sleep at 2 a.m. on a weeknight after drinking too many Diet Cokes while trying to eke out dialogue all night long. I still got sleepy and then I couldn’t read my long complex book BUT THAT WAS OKAY. Because nothing was at stake from my falling asleep.

Beyond that, I don’t have much to report. The site is being rebuilt and tidied up; I have yet to figure out when it’ll be ready. I know that when it happens, the links to my archived pieces will change, though there will be a search feature. This current design is two years old now and it’s time for a change.

Oh, and I keep hearing that there is this big thing at the end of the month where people have parties buy each other presents and there are even special songs about it. I really ought to look into it, right?