The last week or so has been difficult for me, personally and professionally. Health issues destroyed the back end of last week and, despite a few signs that everything is ok, continue to linger. Playing, blogging and anything creative has, as a direct result, suffered a direct hit. Perhaps I should have listened to the Doctor when he told me to take it easy for a week or two.

Maybe my recent back twinges were some kind of early warning. I’ll never know.

Trouble is, taking it easy for a week or two just isn’t the sort of thing I can do without feeling the need to jump up and do something.

And, given the amount of email flak I have received in the last few days, I’m really starting to wish I had put my head down last Friday, spent some quality time with my family to rest and recuperate, and not put my head back above the blogging parapet until sometime next week.

The email flak isn’t particularly personal, neither is it particularly vicious, but it has still managed to annoy me enough to write about it, albeit briefly. I’ll give you an example.

Dude, quit whining about your stomach and start telling us how to make money.

Succinct, don’t you think? And quite direct, thought I think this may have more to do with the writers attention span than anything else.

That email wasn’t alone. More followed and many proceeded it, all deciding to take a similar swipe at what their writers thought was some sort of dereliction of duty on my part. But, thankfully, it enabled me to sit back, smile, and understand a few things. For instance, it occurred to me that as the traffic grows to this site, and it grows without fail every month, my audience becomes more and more diverse.

And I can’t please everyone.

There are some people who come here hoping to find similar content to that found on any of a number of pro blogging rags. You know the sort of thing, mastermind blogging master-classes to make you millions in minutes with minimal work. Semi-automated tripe that keeps the gullible happy and the con-men fat.

But that is not, has never been, and never will be on the menu here.

And that means that sometimes, especially it would seem when a plague descends upon my house, that not everyone is happy.

I can’t wait to see what my greatest critic thinks of tomorrow’s post when I explain why I think that Twitter will have been rendered useless from within before the end of the year. It might be time to make some room in my inbox.