I have at least two public identities: the author, and the chronically ill guy.
Originally, I set up this site for the author “me,” to promote my book(s). The same is true of my Twitter account, @KevinReinholz.
However, it wasn’t long before I found myself drawn into the quite excellent communities for individuals like myself who suffer from chronic illnesses (and often lack another means of support, connections with others who “just get it,” or who cannot endure the strain of traveling or even being out past dinner time in order to take part in a physical support group).
Logically, I *should* separate the two Kevin Reinholzes, create separate websites and accounts for the author pictured on the left, and the chronically ill guy pictured on the right. (Note: since all of my debilitating illnesses are “invisible,” I’ve got the added insult of “not looking sick” which is a whole can of worms my fellow spoonies can easily relate to–the portrait on the right more accurately reflects how I feel even if the portrait on the left more accurately reflects how I look on the outside).
To be perfectly honest, my illness doesn’t leave me with the energy to bother separating the two, or spending the time necessary to establish an “author brand” or to promote that brand, an essential part of becoming successful at writing. (If you think writing a quality book is the biggest struggle for a writer, you are mistaken).
On a more fundamental level, as well, it feels disingenuous to separate “me” from “me.” There’s only one Kevin Reinholz: I’m 37 years old, I’m married with four children, I have plenty of anxiety about the future, most of it illness-related, and I happen to write because it provides me with a much-needed release and sense of fulfillment. Since there’s only one “me,” why should there be separate “online Kevins” presenting different faces to the world?
Until recently I’ve been a very private person, and it’s not always easy to “put myself out there” or become vulnerable to potential criticism, or worse, rejection. Nevertheless, I am who I am, warts and all, and I think I prefer to maintain a single public-facing identity rather than promote separate “brands” as part of some master self-marketing scheme. I don’t make money from talking about my illness, nor do I want to. I want to change an unjust law that penalizes disabled veterans, in particular those retired from the US military due to a service-connected disability, and I also want to further scientific understanding of the root cause(s) of my condition(s) and advocate for a change in the way the US military does business in order to stop inflicting this sort of immune and nervous system damage on my brothers and sisters in arms, but those are primarily self-actualization goals.
I do want to make money from my writing. My work options are quite limited, and legitimate, well-paying “telecommute” or “work from home” jobs seem to be more the stuff of myth than reality. Plus, turning my hobby and passion into my career has an extreme amount of appeal to me. Still, I write because I enjoy sharing my imaginings with others. I have no desire to become a marketing expert who spends far more time doing entrepreneurial sales and marketing work, albeit with my own product, than actually producing works of fiction. I am sure many, many authors who are unfortunate enough to lack a wealthy corporate patron feel the same way. They write because they’re passionate about writing, not acting as a sales person. I could sell used cars if sales were my passion. I could help others establish their “brand” if marketing were my passion. Instead, I publish at a financial loss, because writing is my passion, not those other things.
Come to think of it, I don’t see the need to separate “me” from “me.” I’m one person, an author who happens to be chronically ill.