EgoBoogling. The Funnest Way For An Author To Ditch Writing

I was EgoBoogling this past Thursday when…

You don’t know what EgoBoogling is? You should. Authors, like artists and actors, are particularly susceptible to the disease. When hungry for fame currently not generated by my books, I seek “ego boost” elsewhere. And in the 21^st century, that ego boost comes from searches for my name or my book titles on Google. (Also Wikipedia, Amazon book reviews, Goodreads, The Library Thing, and various social networks.)

Ego boost + Google = Egoboogle.

Tell me you haven’t done this! Not briefly in passing, before or after a legitimate Google search? Not at least been tempted? ...Thought so.

Last Wednesday a writer friend—who has never mentioned succumbing to the temptation  indulging her innocent curiosity—was having trouble EgoBoogling. She asked for ideas. Her search rate efficiency was in the cellar because her last name tends to bring up false positives regarding a popular TV show. I gave her a few pointers in the efficient use of Google’s Advanced Search parameters and sent her off as happy as a clam. Wait, are clams... 

Nevermind. I refuse to Advance Search "clam" plus "happy".

As misplaced karmic reward for my kind deed, I was immediately bitten by the faunching for new EgoBoogle. I gave in the following day.

When you EgoBoogle--unless you were blessed with a distinctive moniker like “Demaris Z. Khalumphek”, author of “Zotz”—your search will bring up lots of false positives just as it did for my friend.

Having to wade through ten screens for just one mention of your name or the title of your latest book can be seriously egoflating—the opposite of egoboogling. We don’t need this. Bad reviews, no one showing up at our bookstore signings, or a form rejection to a query email popping into the Inbox seconds after we hit Send produce more than sufficient egoflating. A carefully refined Google Advanced Search can eliminate at least some of these irrelevant search responses.

But sometimes it’s more fun—and more of a time well taking you away from actual writing—if you just put in your name and see what turns up. Since I wasn’t doing anything important anyway—just revising my latest novel*—I opened up two screens at Google Advanced Search and went at it.

Why two screens? Well, with one I set up my usual EgoBoogle --my name plus detailed parameters for Google’s software to focus on or to ignore. Since I didn’t have a good idea for today’s blog entry, I opened the second screen and input a simple search for my name.

A name as semi-common as Sherry Thompson brings up all sorts of alternative people—just ripe for becoming fictional characters. See? I was working!

I found many familiar alter-egos searching on Google using just "Sherry Thompson"

For instance, I've long been a:

Librarian at Flower Mound High School. ( I was a librarian, but not there) Who calls a school “Flower Mound”? I pity their football team…

Staff of the FBC Student Ministry…

Communications and Program Manager in Omaha. I had a great-uncle who lived there...

Yawn.

Owner of the website “Hooked on Stamping”. (I must be very conflicted. I never have seen the point of buying an expensive stamp and a stamp pad, so I can make the same design hundreds of times.)

Wow! Here’s a new one. Bill R. Thompson (born 2 April 1949) is a former Australian rules footballer who played in the Victorian Football League (VFL) during the late 1960s. Nicknamed 'Sherry', Thompson spent three seasons playing with Essendon…

I frequently run across alternate world Sherry Thompsons who are a deputy sheriff in the Midwest often giving statements to the press and a lesser-known prosecutor. These ladies should get to know each other! Maybe they are each other.

I once was an executive for a cosmetic company but she disappeared. Hopefully not literally!

I’m also a champion female body-builder. Looking in the mirror does not confirm this. Looking at her photos makes me kind of glad.

I used to be a professional clothing designer and made the costumes for “Blossom”.  Based on the many entries, I’m still memorable. Just not to me. How many years ago was that show on?

Speaking of blossoms, I’m involved with the White Charity Blossom of Nebraska which supports nonprofits.

Is there a secret connection between the TV show, the charity and the school? You're right. We're better off not knowing.

When it comes to artsy Sherry Thompsons, I drew the illustrations for “Our Parade”, “What is Love?” and “Spring”. To this day and in spite of protests, Amazon conflates my books with hers. Goodreads is only fooled by the “Spring” title.

I’m a realtor and a mother with a crazy YouTube video that you can screen. See, I can prove it!

Try Google Images, and you’ll find I’m a master of disguise. Now try to find a picture of the real me.

I’ve died at least once, have mourned the death of someone in the family a couple of  times—usually with my husband who keeps changing his first name. What’s –that- about anyway? On a happier note I’ve been married several times. Wait! That can’t be right! I don’t remember any Google references to divorces. Oh, no!  I’m a polygamist! Why did I never notice?

Not to worry! I probably have this multi-marital oversight well in hand since I’m a California divorce lawyer.

As both an animal health technologist and a family practitioner, I save on rent by having both practices in the same office suite. Not to worry—we have two waiting rooms.  Yes, we’re the ones who groomed a toddler and put a blue kerchief around his neck. The parents were quite put out. I’m not sure why--their little boy had a blast. Maybe it was the kibble lollipop?

Appraiser, freelance designer, Texas yoga instructor… I work for Kahlo Chrysler, Jeep, Dodge. I’m also part of the Firefighter Nation.

A member of Bayou City Women Bikers… What kind of bikers are we? Yeah, about that. Is there any connection between my biker street-creds  and the time I was booked into the Okaloosa county jail?

I resigned from the District Office Staff somewhere in Australia—probably because the commute to all my other jobs was just killing me. Which explains the obituary notice.

 BTW, my targeted EgoBoogle search last Thursday turned up not one new mention of the real me.

Whoever she is.

*My editor never reads my entries here—except today.