Writer’s guide to social media 

A useful guide. 

https://thewritingchimp.com/2017/05/10/a-writers-guide-to-social-media-writing-amwriting/

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The growth and death of dreams 

         Dreams are what we build our lives on.  They are part of who we are,  and eventually of what we become.  Dreams that we do not work towards die off.  

         I am by nature a dreamer. I am doing what I have always wanted to do.  I am writing. Is it exactly as the girl I was at nine imagined?  No,  not really.  I am working on making it into what I need it to be. 

       Over the course of my life I have had other dreams.  I have always been a simple person. The biggest thing I have dreamed about is being stable,  having a home of my own.  Note I said home. For me there is a defined difference between house and home. House is where you live,  it is not yours but instead owned by another.  A home is somewhere that no one can make you leave.  I am nearly able to achieve that dream.  And it has been a long time coming.  I have been dreaming about my own home since I was fifteen. 

       The topic came up from a meme going around Facebook. The meme asked if I hit the lottery what is the first thing that I would buy?  Well I discussed it with Joe… And he said that the question is a wee bit unfair as it depends upon how much and when. Right now… If I hit for real money… My priorities would be different than they might be in a year. Right now… I would buy two vehicles,  pay off my home,  and effect some minor repairs. Then I would pay for the utilities for a year and stock up supplies for to help me through. Then admittedly I would stock up on craft tools.  ..💜

If you could win the lottery,  what dreams would you fill? 

Nerves and reality 

So I decided that I need to step back for a day or so from my projects in progress.  I do this so I can get perspective on the story.  So I returned to another project,  a game world idea for D20 rpg.  I set up the pen name for the project a while back.  As it happens,  this project got sidelined due to life getting busy,  and the fact that I was writing on my phone.  This made the project in question so much harder.  The other stories were not as layout oriented in the writing.  So I am now able to use my laptop,  and I really have no reason why I should not put it into my current projects. 

So I transferred what was done and realized that I have barely scratched the surface of what needs to be done with this.  So I started to do it and the networking to be seen… And now I am sitting here laughing at my impetuous nature.  The other projects will likely be ready for the editor in two months or less.  This one is not likely to be available for at least six.  I am being a wee bit optimistic about it.  So I will be busy writing if I want to release everything this year. 

Music soothes the mad poet… 

*image found on Google and only used for inspiration. 

            Recently I read a blog done about music and the effect it had on the life of the blogs writer.  It got me thinking.  So often life for me has revolved around the music.  The sounds of life have always been a rich and full part of who I am. I remember my Dad’s deep baritone singing “Amazing Grace” to me as a child. I remember going to see my great grandfather at his radio station and being enamored by it all.  I loved the poetry in the songs,  how it felt like your soul was understood by the person singing. 

          Grandma Ethel,  my Mom’s mom,  used to sit and listen to stories from her youth and she would share those with me.  Radio shows from another era.  She taught me to enjoy classical music,  how to close my eyes and visualize the music. 

         Music for my mom was such a rigid thing.  If it was not country,  she would not listen to it. And as a child,  in her house I was not supposed to listen to anything else either.  But daddy had records of all manner of song.  Stray cats,  and soft rock like it.  She would eventually learn to bend,  she grew to enjoy some bubble gum rock along with the country.  

                      I still remember the first time I heard real rock. My soon to be step brother had a cassette tape of Dr Feelgood.  I was eleven.  It felt wild and I was hooked.  I still enjoy country,  but I am eclectic in my music tastes. 

                Mind you I am skipping over bits of music and memory. I am trying not to ramble here.  The next influence was my first day of high school.  I was six weeks late because I had a child at fourteen.  I was scared to death of what high school would be. My elder step brother was dating this chick,  and man I looked up to her.  She was confident and sexy and badass. All of the things I knew I would never be.  Well she met me at the cafeteria doors holding a boom box.  It was blasting so loudly that the windows in the building were rattling.  Pink Floyd;  Another Brick in the wall part 3…Aka We Don’t Need No Education.  I can’t tell you how much better I felt about high school.  It was not that school was actually any better.  In truth it was a nightmare.  I just suddenly felt braver,  more secure.  

       Looking back,  every person who was ever a intimate in my life has a song.  My playlist is often a minefield of memories.  Some of which I have not even explained to my boyfriend of over twenty one years. Not because of anything other than the fact that I am done with the one who was once attached to the memory. 

        I may have been a singer and put my love of music to use,  except for the fact that I am unfortunately tone deaf.  I was not gifted with the beautiful singing voice that I would have loved.  It has not stopped me, i sang to my daughter.  I refused to deny her that bond,  both with me and with music. She still will ask for her lullabies when she is feeling bad. 

I sang four main ones to her.  “Hush little baby “,”the greatest love of all “(slightly mangled as i forget one verse), “rockabye baby ” (altered so mama catches as the original bothered me)  and the last is called the puzzle song. 

Lyrics for the puzzle song: *note I learned this is a chorus class in school and have no freaking clue who wrote it. 

I gave my love a cherry that had no stone,  I gave my love a chicken that had no bone,   I gave my love a ring that had no end,   And I gave my love a baby with no cry-in. 

How can there be a cherry with no stone?  How can there be a chicken with no bone?   How can there be a ring with no end?  And how can there be a baby with no cry-in? 

A cherry when it is blooming,  it has no stone,  A chicken when it is peeping it has no bone,  a ring when it is rolling it has no end and a baby when it is sleeping has no cry-in. 

What songs have made a difference in your life?  I would love to hear about them. 

Radio nerves. 

Zombiepalooza Radio Live

So I got the chance to sit down and talk to Jackie Chin from Zombiepalooza.  And I didn’t blow it.  I was definitely nervous but I had a lot of fun!  If you have not checked her out,  then you really should. 

Group programs that take the social out of social media 

Yes,  I am slow sometimes in responding on Twitter or the like.  Doesn’t mean that I am less likely to do so.  The problem with apps like crowdfire and similar is that it takes away from the socializing.  You are sending out blanket messages and showing that all of your concern is the numbers.  People are not numbers…. And they never should be. You can miss some amazing interaction and the amazing ideas behind the individual by using those apps.  As a writer,  I love stories.  Each person is made up of a unique set of stories that came from their unique life.  Why would anyone deny themselves the opportunity to hear them?  Of course you will find the occasional troll. But if you are willing to allow them,  even trolls can teach you about people.  Social media outlets are for being social…. Quit automating that. 

Awareness

I read something last week that has been bouncing around in my head. As I was not planning to write about it,  I did not save the blog link,  or I would refer to it.  I enjoy reading and on any given day read a dozen different blogs. Most do not stick around taking up head space.  This one did.  The gist of the blog was that though it had been a bad year,  perhaps it was not as awful as it seemed.  It spoke about how we are exposing ourselves to news in a constant barrage.  The blog likened it to an assault on the senses. Now it is that idea that has been bouncing.

Is the level of available information a bad thing?  As a writer I enjoy being able to research anything whenever I want. However,  I have had days where opening social media was oppressive. Simply because of the horrible things man does to each other. I remember that my grandma did not watch the news and did not read the paper. She was able to be blissfully ignorant unless she chose otherwise. She was one of the most intelligent people I have ever known. Now we assault ourselves with the news and wonder why we are depressed. I can’t help but think that there must be a better way.