Remember when this used to be a big deal?

This was the issue that was going to make a difference. The one with articles that took chances. The one that might mark a turning point in the magazine's career.

This is the issue that has articles about homeschoolers talking to our kids about death -- and the article assumes you're a non-religious homeschooler. I hastened to add in a promotional posting that much of the advice is also applicable to those who are religious, and that cracked me up. Isn't it always the other way around? Aren't we the ones who are always being told to just ignore the religious stuff, and this textbook, workbook, or curriculum will work almost as well for us as it does for the fundies?

Usually when I post about a new issue on a few non-religious loops I'm on, there's a burst of response -- both in sales and postings. Not huge, just cozy. "All right! A new issue of our magazine!"

This issue, the budget was so tight that I went ahead and did some promotional postings the night before I went out and bought stamps for the mailings. I couldn't buy one stamp more than was absolutely necessary. My PayPal account is in the low three digits as it is.

I posted a full report of all the articles that speak to heathen pagan nonbeliever unbeliever nondogmatic moderately-religious alternatively-religious homeschoolers. I also asked that people who like the magazine, like the sound of the magazine, or just like the fact that there's a secular homeschooling magazine out there please spread the word, as this was an exceptionally tight issue, budget-wise.

I figured I'd check my mail in the morning, right before I went to the post office, and adjust my purchase accordingly.

I didn't buy one more stamp than I'd already planned to, because I didn't get one response. No sales. No "huzzah, a new issue" postings.

Well, okay. My husband had a lot of work to catch up on, so he hadn't posted the articles to read for free yet. He'd post them that night, and I'd put word out that they were available to read, and then people would feel like they weren't being asked to buy a pig in a poke.

So the articles went up, and I posted that they were up for reading. I was excited about that. One of them is a humor piece -- those usually get a pretty good response. And one of them is about the new Joy Hakim book. People would have a chance to read about an approved-for-public-schools science book that quotes from the Bible.

So the next day I opened up my email eagerly. More about this later, but I thrive on feedback. It really keeps me going.

Nothing.

"You know, my usual loops have been really slow these past couple of days," my husband said. "We're talking about half the usual postings. Maybe it's the election or something, but people don't seem to be around. Are your loops slower than usual?"

Oh. Maybe that was it.

That EXACT day, someone posted about how she'd like to know where everyone on the loop lived -- and pluck a duck, dozens of people posted replies by the end of the day.

They were out there. They were reading. They were even in the mood to chat.

Okay. I posted to a specifically atheist homeschooling loop. Its readers include the author of one of the articles (a beautiful piece about letting our children make their own important decisions sometimes), as well as a lot of people who helped me out when the article about talking to our children about death was something I needed to talk about and get feedback on.

The next morning, I saw that the loop had five new messages. Great.

One posting about our new president (pro), one reply from the resident snarling anarchist (he spells said president's name "Obomba"), two replies telling him to lighten up, already, and one reply to them about how we should all cherish our differences.

I'm trying to figure out why I feel so absolutely flattened by all this silence. It's not as if I'm not screamingly busy with the orders I already have. It'll take me all weekend to finish posting those. (Thanks to Buffy and the gang for the help they're always so willing to give at times like these.)

Two things, I guess.

One is that there are some kinds of writing I do just because I feel like it. The kind of thing that will probably never sell -- I may not even try to sell it -- but it just makes me happy.

Magazine writing isn't like that, at least not the stuff I do for this magazine. The only column for SHM that I ever did just for fun was "Our Continuing Education," and I dropped it a couple of issues ago because it wasn't getting any feedback and we needed the room for stuff people were actually reading.

I get a sense of satisfaction from the work I do, but it's not the kind of enjoyment that says, "Hey, I'd do this even if no one but me was here to read it." How could that be? Researched articles and product reviews have no reason to exist if no one other than the writer is reading them.

So the only reason to write them is for money or feedback.

The only reason to make a magazine is for money or feedback.

So the lack of either -- especially when I've been able to count on some every time a new issue comes out -- feels weird. Like I just went to my local homeschooling gathering, shouted out a cheerful hello, and announced that I'd brought brownies -- and no one so much as glanced my way.

Here's the other thing that's nagging at me.

A friend of mine -- the friend I mention chatting with over cups of caramel tea in the current "Here We Go Again" column -- told me once that the right wing is better at getting what it wants politically than the left. (She'd just read a book on this subject, and yes, I can't remember the title.) She said that when there's a candidate or an issue on the right, right-wing types just plain show their support. They pour money, time, and votes into it. Whereas when there's a left-wing politician up for election, for instance, the left will quibble about this, that, and the other -- and anyone who has children of a certain age and temperament knows exactly the kind of thing I mean. "Remember when she said this, and it sounded kind of like that, and I just don't like her any more..." And the politician won't get elected, and the left will feel very bitter about the fact that they never have a representative who really represents them.

I started this magazine because there was a need for it. Because there wasn't one general interest, non-religious homeschooling magazine out there. (Home Education Magazine is wonderful -- they bought two articles from me, pre-SHM -- but they are primarily unschooling in focus [check their recommendations to people interested in writing for them] and they have plenty of religious advertising.)

So I started a magazine with a name that wasn't some namby-pamby wimp-out. (I don't mean Home Ed Mag. I mean all the magazines that don't have the stones to admit in their titles that they write for an evangelical audience.) The name of my magazine said exactly what it was and who it was for. I barred the door to religious advertisers. I wrote and ran a piece in the first issue that was so funny people liked it enough to steal it.

And I do have some faithful, funny, much-beloved subscribers. And I do get some great feedback.

Here's what else I get.

One person said that she stopped buying it because there were too many long articles, and she wants pieces that sum an idea up quick and fast because she doesn't have time to do all that reading. (Do NOT ask me to tell you how much time this person spends reading and posting on various loops.)

One person said that she stopped buying it because the cover wasn't glossy, and that just didn't say "magazine" to her.

One person said that she could never pay that much for a magazine (my cover price is fifty cents more than Home Ed Mag) unless it was something really big and thick, like The Old Schoolhouse. Although come to think of it, a lot of TOS was ads, and the magazine itself had gotten pretty religious lately, which really annoyed her.

I don't mean that I want my beloved eclectic fellow wacky homeschoolers to go all mono. The idea of unquestioning single-issue dogmatism is repulsive to me.

And I sure as hell don't think the world -- or even the secular homeschooling world -- owes me a living. Especially in this economy.

But this deafening silence is freaking me out.

Didn’t a secular homeschooling magazine used to be a big deal?

Back to stamping envelopes. I need to end this day feeling like I did something worth doing.