I can't laud A Small Orange highly enough.
This wonderful hosting company provides a fantastic product, unparalleled customer service, a great user experience (with the cpanelish tooling they provide), and an all-around feeling of good juju, even if you're not a fan of African shamanic arts.
Nonetheless, I'm leaving A Small Orange because of new interests --- especially the triplintersection of content creation, content delivery, and content experience.
Three years ago, I'd have despised anybody who referred to creative expression as (the noun) "content", rather than giving creation its due respect as the core of all human endeavors. I continue to feel a deep, resounding revulsion toward the moniker "creatives", alike as it is with the epithets "working class" and "homeless". People who use these terms are not necessarily evil, but they do -- to the extent that they have power to hire, fire, or donate -- consign others to a station of subservience.
Charitably, what we're really seeing is the intersection of two different value systems, arising from two distinct roles. The content producer can't thrive without a content deliverer (without whom there is no monetary reward). And a content deliverer can't exist without, well, content. Likewise, creativity needs an audience, a critical community, a sounding board, a social ballpit, whatever -- to even begin to create. And there must be a way to connect two humans, one who produces, well, stuff, and another who responds to said stuff.
Uncharitably, in my experience, people who are creative tend to be wielded as weapons of artistic mass destruction, producing the propaganda of capitalistic enterprise. Nonetheless, I've understood that it's not incumbent on content deliverers to deliver good content: it's incumbent on "content creators" to self-publish.
So I will.
Self-promotion is a concomitant of self-publishing: not a moral failing, but just part of the gig.
But it's not always easy. Artists often have fear-induced hang-ups: success, exposure, disdain, disapproval, influence, ridicule, and the like. In other cases, artists are aggressively prolific, spewing their product into the world with abandon, and saturating anybody nearby with their ectoplasm.
Myself, I'd like to try to push into the world some solutions to problems other people may be having, or touch on ideas others may be mulling over. In the end, the best anybody can do is to establish a real community of like minds. And if the community starts growing quickly, it's best not to have a lid.