I have a fan. This fan, even amidst his busy workday schedule, anxiously awaits the posting of a new blog. He will even telephone to remind me that I haven't put up a new blog yet.
Now this certainly is true love. A phone conversation ought to be enough for him to get his "fix" of me, but he values just as much the expression of my thoughts on my blog. He enjoys my written words because they add a different dimension to his understanding of me. He claims that it is a great way for him to learn what I have been thinking about and he likes to figure out what prompts one particular subject or another. He often recognizes extensions from conversations we have had, noting what I have continued to chew on, or think about, from ideas we have previously discussed.
This is the greatest form of flattery or compliment that a writer can receive. My true fan recognizes that I reveal the real inner workings of my mind in my day-to-day blogging. And he values that. Rarely does my blog apply directly to the mundane monotony of everyday life. He already knows what I think about those things. This affords new clues to solving the mystery of Ardith, something he has been working on for 28 years.