when the ghost of Mark Twain sat down next to me.
He reached out, snatching my laptop. "'Scuze me, boy, I want to check my Twitter feed."
I gaped at him. "You have a Twitter Feed?"
"Sure, son. @TheTwain. Just getting started, don't you know.
But tarnation, some of those writer friends of yours just don't know when to shut up!"
"Yes, it does seem all about BUY ME! But why are you are on Twitter?"
"Why to help you, son! When I chat with someone on Twitter, and I make them laugh and add value to their life,
they start to think that the book of the fellow I haunt just might add value to them, too."
He winked at me. "Want to see my header on Twitter?"
"Could you help C. Lee McKenzie and not me today?"
He laughed, "Why, ain't you the wily one?"
"What do you mean?"
"There are benefits to helping fellow writers, don't you know?"
"FREE MARKETING, son. Any traffic initiated from her end will arrive to your site."
"I'm not doing it for that!"
"Of course not, and those visitors will see that, and you get the added plus of good feelings from them and her."
Mark lit his ghost cigar.
"MORE CONTENT for your blog is always a good thing, too.
Different content shakes up things so they don't get boring."
"A CHANGE OF PACE for my friends, you mean?"
"Publishing a interview with a fellow author introduces some variety, not only for you in producing it, but for your audience in consuming it"
He smiled broadly, "You get to network -- darn word sounds like a new stitch in knitting, don't you know? --
Where was I? Oh, yes. You get to network in a way that doesn't FEEL like networking ... to you or to your visitors."
He puffed a cloud of smoke that slowly formed into a riverboat. He winked at me.
"Learned that from some wizard in the most godawful grey hat you ever saw.
But last, and most important of all, son ...
It feels good to help someone out by drawing attention to her work.
And it feels good to realize you can help yourself by putting the spotlight on someone else.
If more of your friends realized that,
why, the whole lot of your friends would be helping out each other more."
He started typing on my laptop. "What is this here SIGN OF THE DRAGON about, anyway?"
I said, "Think of STAND BY ME mixed in with that STRANGER THINGS you like so, sir."
He stroked his moustache. "You don't say? Why, I will have to check it out."
"You can read my Kindle copy, sir. It comes out today."
He shoved my laptop back to me. "Well, just don't sit there! Get to buying it, too."
He looked out to the shadows as if being able to see each and every one of you reading this. "That goes for you, too, pilgrims!"