|That's The Contrarian taking his morning nap in the carrier.|
He assured me he wasn't tired ("I am not!") right up until he passed out.
Chris here. I hope you're having a wonderful hump day filled with humping the hell out of someone, even if it's just yourself. (If you're into that sort of thing, of course. I wouldn't want you to hump yourself without your consent just because it's Wednesday. That's just not cool.)
We have a lot of great posts in the works right now. The latest part of A Demon's Rubicon will likely be up this week or early next, and this weekend you can expect the first part of a short series about starting your own blog. Friday's hate mail is going to be a doozy.
Today, however, I'm taking a quick moment out to tell you how you can help. Because, frankly, Blogust isn't going so well.
|It is a tragic turn of events.|
Do not even attempt to contain your tears.
|So...we're okay then?|
The numbers are absolutely fantastic, but they're nowhere near what we would need to reach 50,000
|So wait, how should I feel?|
I don't know how to feel!
Turn into this:
Seeming non sequitur that isn't: I got an e-mail this week from my boss. She told me that they have another class on Monday nights that I could teach. I'm already teaching one on Wednesday. Normally I would have to take at least two classes to keep up with the sundry things that aren't covered by cleaning The Hall of Rectitude. This semester I was able to tell her that I was okay. That is because of all of you. I have been able to drop to part time and put up more articles each week. It really does make a difference.
I always feel a little weird and dirty writing these posts. And most of the time I'm pointing towards the Paypal donation button and clearing my throat, not just hoping you'll help me with some promotion. But self-promotion has to be shameless. The myth of the writer who doesn't need money and is too good to ever have to ask for it not only isn't true, but it never really was. I'm very serious when I say I can't do it without you. I don't have the social media reach. I'm using every trick I know, and still coming up about 400 short a day.
Blogust's success depends on all of you.
I will draw the line at simply telling you how you can help. I'm not begging. Not demanding. Not guilt tripping. Not posting pictures of starving kids from developing nation and telling you that only you can help them beat the dysentery. I don't want to turn this into the last ten minutes of a 700 Club episode (though if you listen to NPR, you know that pledge week is ten times worse.) I will simply tell you how you can help if you are so inclined.
Share an older article you liked.
Not this article. I mean one of my good ones from the past. Something that you really enjoyed. Maybe something I haven't reshared in a while. You all have friends I don't have. You all know people who might like stuff that I simply can't reach. Every time one of you has shared an article it has gotten lots of new traffic.
If you look over to the right side you can see my top ten articles of all time. If the article you want isn't there, you can use the text box at the top right to search (just Writing About Writing) for the article you want. You can also go to The Reliquary if you have an idea of the category of article you'd like to share but aren't sure about the rest.
An old mailbox (even a hate mail) you really liked? One of my prompts that you loved? Do you have an old favorite Leela Bruce or Guy Goodman guest blog? Or maybe you prefer when I write about "that feminist crap."
Even one article will help. The share buttons are down at the bottom of every single article. All you have to do is click once. Easy peasy.
Thank you. I'm sorry that modern self-promotion is a little skeevy and pimptacular. You are all wonderful.
"Oh yesssss," she hissed in the darkness, soft light from the computer monitor the only light in the entire building. Sure, she could have turned lights on in the office or the kitchen, but she liked pretending the enormous house was vacant. It made her feel... evil. "I know just the person who needs more W.A.W. posts shared on his Facebook wall." When she laughed, maniacally but quietly, even the psychotic hench-cat sought refuge in another room.ReplyDelete
"Yessss, yesssss... tell me all about how you want to be a writer. Yessss... suck me into your delusion because you have red hair, you're cute, and I'm all about helping writers be writers. But if you don't write, then you don't really want to be a writer... now do you?"
She practiced her mad scientist laugh. The neighbors hurried to slam all their windows shut.
"I'll get you, my pretty... and your little boyfriend, too."
(Well, everyone else seems to be pushing my buttons today. Why not let David have it with both barrel, eh? A post every other day -- or even every single day! -- might just be the ticket for the Clue Bus he needs to grok why I'm annoyed with him. You win. I win, because I wrote an impromptu Weird Thing. [Though the email to Clueless Tech Support Person at The Company from Hades' Sphincter was mighty fine, too.] He might get a clue. Or not. Now I'm off to sift through the archives.)
I have no idea what's going on in this comment, and yet it sounds epic and awesome.Delete
Consider me hooked.
Sweet! I'm going to give myself a prize.Delete
On the other hand, it might not be the best idea to encourage me. The Voices might get the idea it's okay to venture even farther afield than they already do. The Superhero often comments on Facebook. The Knight talks to certain coworkers. The Starship Captain talks to other coworkers. There was that time the whole lot of 'em sat in my living room and decided I needed an intervention... I don't remember why because I was too busy taking dictation. Even when they stay on DreamLyrics where they belong, they've started crossing universes.
Eh, what the heck... if they want to get loose and convince *everyone* I'm crazy, I don't care. Maybe they'll all go to the medieval world and hang out with the Knight. Because that would probably cause the spousal unit's head to explode. He's already annoyed that the Superhero is there.
"You can't do that! You can't put a... a... a SUPERHERO on The Heartwood!"
"And yet... I did. Over 20 words and still having a rip-roaring good time."
"It's not possible!"
"Sure it is. Andi and Falcon came from Beyond. Same place the dragons and unicorns are from."
"Aaarr glaarrrg! NOOO!"
"Oh yes. And did you know Falcon is originally from the same universe as Moira? Does the planet Daled IV ring any bells? That one's been over the place. Remember Delia? Of course you do. Falcon has an indirect relationship with Delia, via Jason the pilot who rescued Delia from her home world and brought her out to the space station where she caught up with her favorite brother who died years ago. Except, whee! Ellik's not dead!"
"Right, I thought so, too. It makes perfect sense for Falcon to slip between the multiverses. Anyway, it would probably be fun to get all the redheads together. Moira would love Dazi. Heck, their respective Goddesses would probably get along, too. Moira would like Corky and vice versa, but I'm not sure if Dazi would care for Corky."
"Linguistic anthropologist? From Mush for Brain's short-lived Stargate RPG?"
"NO!!!! You cannot put your characters into MY WORLD!!"
"Yes, dear. Except 20 thousand words says... oh, yes I can."
Erm, feeling a little non sequitur after those vivid Arten comments (not bumping into walls she) and distracted by the Stargate reference ("chevron one locked!"), yet here goes ... your listed on my brilliant blogs blog roll, and consider the sharing done.ReplyDelete
:) They were pretty colorful, weren't they.Delete
Your brilliant blogs blog roll sounds awesome, and I'm honored to be there and it's more than I could hope or dream for. Thanks!!
I'll nae be bumpin' inte any walls!Delete
Oh, shut up, Moira. And you're a fine one to talk... a Starfleet officer who gets seasick AND can't handle zero gravity?
Ní raibh mé ag caint leat, amadán. Téigh ar shiúl.
Oh, yes... nice talk for an officer. And I'm not going away. YOU'RE inside MY head.
I'll kick her ass for you.
You shut up, too, Andi.
Fine. See if I ever talk to you again!
Oh, I'm so scared. Of all the Voices in my head, you're the one who likes to talk the most. You couldn't stop talking to me if you died. Oh wait. You DID die... and STILL wouldn't shut up.
I have picked out some lovely posts to share. As my daughter used to say (usually after she'd "borrowed" something she'd been told not to touch), "Sharing is caring!"
P.S. I'm glad I only have to prove I'm not a robot. I'd be in a lot of trouble if I had to prove I was sane.
Alright, I caved and have now officially pimped your blog. Of course, it's easier when you write awesome things, like How Video Games Make Me a Better Person. Almost makes it hard not to.ReplyDelete