What's a Hermit to Do?

Last week sometime, a wildly popular (for his genre), money-making, indie author I follow was giving what he feels is the secret to his success - other than writing good books, that is.  It basically boiled down to making yourself visible and interesting on social media - in a non-marketing kind of way.  He says he rarely talks about his books on social media.  (Umm, not sure about that last one, but he does talk about more stuff  than his books, so maybe that's what he means.)  

Anyway, I read this.  And I immediately got depressed.  You know me.  I'm a hermit.  Sure, I'm sociable with the few people I know, but putting myself out there?  Umm... :crawls back under her rock:

This being a new year and all, though, I've been thinking about it.  I was way more social when I first published.  I was stopping at blogs and interacting with people and junk.  I even did some interacting on a forum or two.  Since then?  Yeah, the hermitude took over.

Oh, I'm still doing these blogs.  But I only stop at two or three others on a regular basis.  Maybe five, with only commenting on two or three.  Basically, I'm sitting here talking to myself and the few people who stop by.  

Now, I've never read this dude's books.  (They aren't in the budget.  Which is basically 0.)  They're probably pretty good.  People I respect have raved about them.  Maybe they're light-years better than my books.  :shrug:  Maybe it's just that he's out there.  And he is OUT THERE.  

And one thing this dude doesn't seem to ever worry about is pissing people off.  Which confuses me.  I worry about that all the time.  All. The. Time.  He's edgy.  He's loud.  He's opinionated.  And he doesn't care who knows it or how many times he gets his accounts suspended.  Me?  I speak my mind and then worry whether some asshole is going to report me and get my account blocked.  Or whether someone is going to get their undies in a wad and run over to Amazon to one-star all my books.  

Basically, I'm piglet.  As in, a very small animal.  I can't even comment on the dude's posts without feeling like the fat kid with cystic acne and thick glasses hiding next to the bleachers at the dance.  Hell, I can barely comment on the circle of friends' posts without feeling that way.  I try and without fail, I step on my tongue (err... fingers) and someone comes along to comment in such a way to insure I know I'm not part of their crowd.  

Hey, feels like high school.  Nearly thirty-four years later.  I am so screwed.

Okay, so what's a hermit to do?  Especially after nearly 7 years of publishing without being hardly social at all.  I mean, do I ease into the social sphere and spend countless hours/days/weeks getting to know folks?  Or do I jump in with both feet and be totally out there, who cares whether people like it, shock-jock writer?  

The easier answer is to throw money at it.  If I had money to throw, I'd throw it.  Since that's flat out, my choices are either get out there or resign myself to anonymity and the lackluster sales that go with it.

By the way, if you're here... Thanks.  You'll never know how much your continued support means to me.  If I ever make it big, I'll try to take you with me.