Doctors and internet specialists have just discovered an awful new disease called Subscriberitis.

It infects people of all races and income levels, but those most susceptible are young, very young, elderly, middle-aged, super old, male, female and anyone who subscribes to newsletters and blog feeds they don’t need.

There are many symptoms of Subscriberitis, including but not limited to:

• A full inbox
• Rapid and psychotic bashing of the “Delete” key
• Repeated dishonest use of the “Mark as Read” function
• Fear that your feed reader must be malfunctioning
• Paranoid suspicions that people update their blogs for no other reason than to piss you off
• Flagging interest in the affairs of others, even family
• Also dry eyes, cotton mouth, shriveled privates, swamp foot and constipation. Possibly also stunted growth and death.

Luckily there’s a free and somewhat ticklish self-exam you can perform in the privacy of your own home…

How to know if you have Subscriberitis

This simple and 100% accurate exam can be completed by simply answering Yes or No to the following questions:

• Do you have too many blogs to read?
• Do you even care about all those newsletters?
• Can’t be bothered?

If you answered yes, no or maybe to any of those, you have Subscriberitis really really bad.

Luckily there’s a cure.

How to cure Subscriberitis…at least for a little while

If Subscriberitis is the unprotected exposure to too many blog posts and newsletters, a logical cure would be to just get rid of a bunch of them.

And that’s exactly what we’re going to do. It’s time to start practicing Safe-Subscribing.

But wait! We don’t want you unsubscribing to everything under the sun or doing something you’ll regret later. Take IgniteLiving here. Unsubscribing to this blog would be a terrible life decision.

So, here’s a handy system that can help you determine…

Which subscriptions to keep and which to throw out.

1. I mean, really? Do you even read it anymore?
It’s painfully obvious, but why not just dump the ones you don’t read? I had a bunch of blogs in my RSS reader that I didn’t read for months. There was even one in there about math. Math?! What the…I’ve never even heard of that.

So a couple times a week, without even glancing at them, I’d highlight a handful of these feeds, click “Mark as Read” and go on my way. After a while, I realized I can save myself a bunch of time and just unsubscribe altogether.

2. Money, honey
Does the newsletter or blog subscription make you money? Does it increase your bottom line? Does it help you in any way to improve your business?

3. Time
Any newsletter or blog post is an investment on time. You have to read the stuff, right?

Well, is it worth your time? Does spending 15 minutes reading the information improve your life by 15 minutes? Will those 15 minutes have a return on investment? Or does that time just disappear, leaving you with nothing but a lasting rash?

4. Must-have Interests
I love playing guitar. It’s more than a hobby, but not at all related to my business or income. But that said, there’s more to life than money, and I can’t live without a bit of frivolous guitar immersion. It’s a must-have for me, lest I lose my angelic disposition.

And that’s the dividing line right there: is it a must-have or just a frivolous infatuation?

I mean, for three days last year you took a passing fancy to earthworm reproduction and the migratory patterns of cabbage, and now your feed reader looks like you’re preparing for a quiz show.

These and a bazillion other subjects don’t really warrant invasions into your life whilst you’re busy getting your show on the road.

And in those times when you do need a quick fix, well, that’s what Google’s for.

5. Happiness
A lot of people like TheOnion, a website devoted to humorous fake news. And certainly a lot of people visit YouTube. While neither TheOnion nor YouTube give us much, if any, monetary return on our investment, we don’t need to live spartan lives either. A certain amount of laughter and frivolity is absolutely as necessary to us as money and food.

Do the newsletters and blogs you subscribe to at the very least make you happy or provide laughter you might not otherwise get?

6. Broken Record Phenomenon
Here’s an example of the Broken Record phenomenon. I used to follow a guy who had great info about increasing sign-ups to your site and newsletter. I watched a video he made, learned about strategic spots to place sign-up forms and some resources to put in my sidebar.

Fast forward a couple months, now he’s got another handful of posts up and a dozen other videos and guess what they’re about? Strategic newsletter sign-up areas and sidebar resources. It’s a snooze-fest all up in here now. Deleted.

7. What happened to the old you?
One fella I used to follow focused on 3D modeling, something I’m rabidly fanatical about. And it’s not the most popular topic, so I was thankful I’d found him. But he suddenly changed tack on me, and pretty much all he talks about anymore is pinball. Yeah. From computer modeling to pinball.

I believe that’s the first lesson of How to Misuse Your Audience 101.

8. Is it an aggravation?
A while ago on Twitter I saw this witticism:

“Wealth impedes knowledge.”

And I just sort of went, “Gosh, really? That’s idiotic.” And because it was said by a guy of at least a little influence, I started envisioning all the kids out there taking it to heart, saying: “Hey, Pa, I hope I’m dirt-poor when I grow up so I can be really smart.”

It’s very petty of me, but I hate seeing stupid information like that because I get all bent out of shape and cry like a little baby. (Hey at least I’m honest, right?) To keep from losing the limited sense I still have, I don’t subject myself to the festering pustules on the underbelly of the web.

If it’s an aggravation, it’s probably best to be rid of it.

To be cured, you have to act

You brought Subscriberitis upon yourself, and only you can get rid of it.

If any of this seems complicated, just remember this simple bottom line:

If you don’t need it, don’t read it, and don’t get any joy from it, toss it out.

Also remember this:

It’s your inbox. What shows up in it is your responsibility.

I really hope the above helps you manage your Subscriberitis a bit better. With time, dedication and ongoing vigilance, you can expect to be cured and experience a full recovery.

Oh, and also remember to apply lotion. It’s got nothing to do with the cure, but it’s still nice.

Me, minus the brain

When it had happened I’d been spying on my sister. Again. Who spies on their own sister, you ask? Every brother in the history of the universe, that’s who.

And why? Well, she was out in the forest beside our house, and therefore obviously up to no good. Maybe I’d catch her making out with someone or find where she buried her victims. Or did I forget to mention she was an axe murderer?

Well she was. She was also a punching bag, my guardian angel, an enemy samurai, my best friend, a linebacker, a beanbag, and the most patient person ever, depending on my mood.

Instead of finding decomposing corpses, I got hit by Instant Karma^TM, tripped on my gangly adolescent size-eighty-billion feet, and went forehead-first into the only rock within a twelve-mile radius.

When I stood up, my bell was rung and I was wobbly, but overall I figured I’d make it.

That’s when my sister discovered me. She stopped in her tracks, went utterly pale, pointed at my head and shrieked like the abominable snowman fighting with a banshee inside a jet engine. It terrified me to my core.

I put my hand to my forehead, saw blood on it and experienced the longest half-second of my life as my synapses zapped and I reasoned out the following:

It’s just blood. But my sister’s a tough cookie, blood alone wouldn’t elicit a reaction like that. There must be brain matter. Oh shit there’s brain lobe on my face. Should I stuff it back in? NO! Don’t touch it. You’ll get pine needles on it. What if it dries out before the ambulance gets here? I can’t die yet. This can’t be happening. If I continue to bleed will I be paralyzed? I think I heard that somewhere.

Then my sister bolted. She ran like the wind, either leaving me to die alone or to get my parents.

And I wanted to bolt too, but what if it jostled my brain out? I froze, and my sister got further away, crying as she ran.

Then I thought what anyone would have thought, “Fuck this I want my daddy.”

And I bolted, too, thanking the stars I had a sister to follow.

We made it back to the house right about the same time, my sister hollering to get my mom’s attention.

“Mom! Mmmph aaaahhhh, ssdiif berglin and yerthl adsking!”

“What?” my mom said.

“Cjoaueru ad vy aefj!” sis hollered, making up for lost clarity with volume.

Mom grabbed me and put my head in the sink. My sobs echoed up at me as I watched my life-juice go down the drain.

Before long the bleeding stopped and I was left with embarrassment, a wicked headache and a trip to the ER.

Eleven stitches later I was back home. I was exhausted from spent adrenaline, but so happy to be alive, happy to have a sister, happy to have parents that didn’t scold me for being a dumbass.

Take this with you: Fear makes you stupid

When you stand still in life, or in business, or on a football field, or on the highway, or in the forest with your brain leaking out of your head, you collect things.

You collect doubts. You collect what-ifs. You collect very heavy thoughts and insecurities. You collect this negative sort of inertia that pushes against you.

These are bits of mystery. And mystery, being essentially a vacuum that needs to be filled, continues to attract things to it. It’s the most efficient magnet ever, and a bastard spiteful one at that.

Without acting, the Bastard Mystery Magnet continues to pull. Before you know it, your best ideas are covered with dust, mold and bubble gum wrappers.

What are your business plans? Is there something you’re avoiding? How’s your book coming along? How about that list of to-do items and the stack of emails?

Run at it. Go tackle it. Hit it head on and watch the mystery vanish like magic.

I avoided making a living online for eight years. Eight years. That’s nearly three-thousand days, and at least three thousand times I told myself, “Not today.” Three-thousand times I told myself I was too afraid, that I wasn’t ready, that I didn’t know enough.

Is there one particular thing you’re afraid of? Something you’re avoiding? You don’t need to tell me, but you certainly can if you wish. The comment area is yours if you want to say something publicly and be all sorts of accountable for. So go have a ball.

Get to it!

And don’t forget to subscribe! You won’t want to miss the next episode, where I’ll tell you about this one time I got really cold, ran into a tree, and shattered into a million pieces.

And follow me on Twitter as well, where I always often very rarely ever say anything because I hate Twitter.

What I don’t like so much is that someone ripped it off.

And what I really don’t like is the way I found out.

Most of you know I run an ebook and web design business. Well the other week, someone wrote and said, “Hey, here’s my new manuscript. Do me up a good book design!”

As I looked his book over to get an idea for design, I saw my own words staring back at me. It was my writing, my book, not so carefully camouflaged with a replaced word here and there. Either he’d forgotten he’d stolen it from me or he’s wicked ballsy. Because that’s like stealing a car from someone, then bringing it back later and asking the owner to vacuum it out.

Now I’m not here to complain about it. K, maybe a little, but I’m done now. Truth is there’s much more writing where that came from and no damage has been done. After all, my original book is a freebie.

Plus, I think people are basically good, even though that goodness may at times hide underneath a thick candy shell with the word “idiot” stamped on it. When I confronted him on the thievery he admitted it straight out and apologized profusely, thus proving my point.

But I’m not going to happily stand there while someone punches me in the chops either.

So what can I say?

First, thanks for coming clean. You could have lied about it when I asked you. I guess that’s something.

Second, go and reread the book you borrowed from. I’m glad you liked the writing, but I think you missed something. Like this bit:

If you create products you know are lousy, you’ve had it. If you purposely hurt people just to expedite your own caprice, you’re done for. If you don’t do what you say you’re going to, or if you make money by fraud you’re going to hear about it one day.”

Well, you’re hearing about it. Reread that chapter anew. In fact, reread the WHOLE BOOK, with a view to understanding WHY I wrote it.

And third, be more careful. I am absolutely not trying to be threatening or spooky with this, as that’s not my style. But had things been slightly different you would now be party to a lawsuit. My book is a freebie, which partially saved you. I also discovered your hack job before you went to press, which also partially saved you (you’re welcome).

You lucked out, dude. You went cow-tipping and didn’t get gored in the backside by a ton of angry bull. (Sorry, that’s my Montana roots coming out.) But keep it up and it’s just a matter of time.

Parting words of love and sunshine

You can do it, dude, all on your own. I’ve talked to you enough to know you’re a smart feller. Use your noodle for good and you’ll do just fine.

The internet is big enough for both of us, but unfortunately there’s only room for ONE of me. So go be you, silly bastard.

Why a new look? Well, I’m a tinkerer and I just wasn’t happy with the look of the site for a while. It wasn’t “Ignited” enough to suit the name and subject matter here. And as a result of that, I’ve spent far too much time piecing together a little update here, a little update there, all in hopes it would eventually arrive at ZING! And what I really want to be doing here is writing. A lot.

So what was really needed was for me to stop polishing little nuts and bolts and just rip the whole thing down.

Which I did, and here we are. I hope you like the look of the site because it’s going to be like this at least throughout 2011.

Now I get to write. A lot. And I’m very very very happy about this.

Been missing the writing. Been missing the emails and comments from Ye Olde Readers.

Looking forward to spending the year with you all.

Cheers,

Charlie

Like the musician you looked up to and then you found out he ate babies? Or the guy in the Olympics who inspired millions, then got busted for sprinkling steroids on his Mini-Wheats? Or the “human social media guy,” who isn’t actually social enough to respond and appears more like a Twitter cyborg than human?

Thankfully there are plenty of exceptions, and for every a-hole out there, there are diamonds, too. Naomi Dunford is one of them. I’m going to tell you about how she saved my life.

How Naomi saved my life

When I say saved my life, I don’t mean she pulled me out of a flaming cargo container or extracted a contaminated bullet from my gluteus maximus. (Hey, I can wish, right?)

No, Naomi saved me by giving me her time. Now, before you feel all pissed about how anti-climactic that is, I want you to read this and ask yourself if you or the people you know would have done what Naomi did. The dude I talked about last week? No way in Hell.

When I was first getting on the internet in an active, “Here I am, World!” sort of way, I stumbled across her site. Naomi had no idea who I was, but I liked what she was up to and I sent her my first ebook. I just wanted to know, “Hey…is my book complete shit?” I expected a brief “yes” or “no” in return, and nothing more. I had no idea she was in fact a very busy somewhat famous person who could rain down wrath and fury upon me for being so presumptive as to GASP! actually send her an email. How dare you, insolent cur!

Next thing I know, Naomi’s got a post up about my book at her site and people started rolling in. Now I have a successful business and the world is my oyster. Why? Because Naomi spent ten minutes of her time on me, a complete stranger.

What Naomi could have done when I first wrote her was toss my email in the trash. What Naomi could do when I send her random Tweets is just ignore them. But she doesn’t, and that has made all the difference.

Thank you, Naomi. You know what you did for me.

It doesn’t matter if you’re famous…

It doesn’t matter if you’re famous, ultra-busy, rich, popular, sexy, Greek, female or male or both, a genius or anything else. People just want you to be nice.

Having a huge Twitter following doesn’t excuse rudeness. Being famous doesn’t make it alright to cut in line, as my old boss used to do in the cafeteria. Being rich doesn’t make you immune to being a douchebag.

You want to know how to act when you’re famous and when you don’t have time?

You just go on being who you’ve been all along the road to fame. Keep helping people out. Keep in touch with the “little” guy and don’t get too big for your britches.

Nobody likes a snob.

And if you’re a famous snob? Well, shit, you’re pretty much eff’ed. Sorry.

Be good, people. And be good people.