Look! I have just posted a photo on my blog, of Lord Chubbington dancing on a string. Isn’t he adorable?
OK, it’s time to engage in some meaningful blog marketing and get people—a lot of people—to see Lord Chubbington. You see, the best way to do this is on the WordPress Reader, which is perhaps the most ingenious invention in the history of blogging, like, ever. I simply have to type the topic—“humor,” in my case, but feel free to type anything you feel like “reading”—in the search box, hit enter, and voìla!
See that “Like” button underneath every post? That’s my secret weapon. Although, if you’re reading this, I guess it’s no secret anymore.
First post. Click. Second post. Click. Third post. Click. Clickety-click-click.
Phew. Fifty-seven posts “Liked” in a minute. That’s got to be a personal best or something. Wait, what’s this? Continue reading →
Serendipity has often led me to wonderful discoveries of obscure wisdom buried by information overload. Ingrained into this excessive load, are blog posts, which are designed for instantaneous consumption of information, after which they are piled up in a corner of cyberspace, forgotten.
Until someone—the blogger or an inquisitive reader—decides to uncover them.
If a blog post were a needle in a giant, ever-expanding haystack, then a blog comment would be a grain of sand underneath that needle. Indeed, a comment is usually read only by the person it is directed to, even though it can equally contain insights too valuable to ignore. Fortunately, on a fortuitous day, random chance can lead us to the unexpected discovery of these insights.
Last week I asked for writing prompts to help me get my writing back on track. I received three. This one is thanks to subspace5000. Not really my genre, but here it is. I will post the other two soon, along with what I’ve learned from the whole exercise.
As usual, comments are appreciated.
Ernak marched through the candle-lit corridor, his wings folded tight behind him, his pet human following obediently by his side. He began to feel searing pain from the wound in his stomach—thick, pitch black blood dripped onto the floor with each stride. Continue reading →
Okay. So I need help. Not professional help for my mental health—although if this continues I suspect I may need some, after all—but in my writing. (Note: By “this” I mean “life”)
I don’t really have a writer’s block. What I have— nay, what I am, is rusty.Like my iron ashtray, left outside on the roofless balcony during the harsh winter months, I need to rekindle the fire—even if it’s with searing cigarette butts. Because the latter seems to be what my ideas are made of lately—dark ashes clouding my mind, clogging the blood vessels where creativity is supposed to flow, unhindered. Continue reading →
Maybe I’m generalizing. Maybe I’m the only writer who has mood swings like a teenage girl in puberty. Sometimes I believe my writing is better than many published contemporary authors. Most of the time, however, I doubt I will ever measure up against them. Continue reading →