My re-blogger is broken…merde!
My re-blogger is broken…merde!
My re-blogger is broken…merde!
#1 His document file remains untouched …
In the beginning it was a passionate love affair, there were not enough hours in the day for “said typist” to satisfy their needs, to spend every minute solely on him, slaving, slathering, salivating as the story hit the page in graphic detail. Oh’ the fervor was electric, his character and energy, building, growing, escalating and wait, excuse me, what’s that? Yeah…exactly, crickets! Where the heck did that #$!@&%*go? Hello? Author, we are not finished here!
#2 His creator accidentally calls him by a different name …
When, finally “said storyteller” opens the word file lamenting lame excuse after excuse, having not been able to find his specified folder, mislabeling the work, or worse, accidentally deleted their idiosyncratic draft. How could this have happened to their supposed one-of-a-kind, spiritually satisfying soul-mate, “I will die without you” connection? Suddenly typing starts again at a furious pace, rushing down the poetic highway at lush breakneck speeds when his name is written wrong. Hans??? Who the H – E double L is Hans? My name is George!
All hail Kristen Lamb…
I eagerly prepare to attend a class where public flogging is an anticipated event. Weary authors will stand in line, heads hung in despair and maybe a fleeting quiver of hope lodged like vomit bubbling in the back of their throat, humbly bowing before their master, waiting for THE “shredding” Knees quaking, writers will clench between white-knuckled-fingers a two sentence description of their manuscript. Peeping through half-closed lids, fearing the removal of an outstretched hand, we will offer our meager sacrifice stained in hours of coffee slobber and sweat.
How is it that one can be filled with an obnoxious combination of enthusiasm and apprehension at the same time?
Adrenaline has become this, moi, writer’s bubbly, knocking it back as an eager freshman. There is definitely something peculiarly wrong with this picture. I feel as though I am a dark age villager, preparing her lunch to watch the beheading of another crier of the written word, a fellow peer, and friend, standing first row before the hovering guillotine, hoping mid-bite, perhaps, that I shall be the next oblation.
And if called upon, what will I do?
A year and a half ago, I would have shrunk behind the crowds, disappearing into the swarms of rowdy peasants hailing curses and throwing rotten tomatoes. Fast forward to present day, I will be first to watch the spectacle. My glasses pushed high on the bridge of my nose with pencil sharpened, journal wide-open, praying to absorb the ink splatter. And will dance with Gene Kelly as he belts out,“Singing in the Rain,” shouting, “Pick me! Pick me!”
So you ask what is a log-line? I found Gideon’s Tips and he describes it like this …
“LOGLINES are a 1-2 sentence description of your script. They aim to identify the main character, the tone, the conflict and give an idea of theme and plot. Some loglines can stretch out to 3-4 sentences and are more like mini-synopses. A new trend is emerging to describe your film in 25 words or less. Whatever the format, the purpose of the logline is for you to quickly pitch your script to a producer and talent to convey the general concept. Another recent trend in loglines is to pose a hypothetical question such as “what if”? or “imagine if”?
The basic anatomy of a logline is: Character A must achieve a goal, but character B blocks him in a unique way different to other films. Character A emerges a changed person by learning something about themselves or humanity at large.”
Thanks, Gideon! I’ll let you know how it went.
Write On! ❤ Jessica
This day commiserates a multitude of milestones for me. Two years ago, almost to the day, I left my career to settle into a brutally agonizing field called writing. A satisfying and desolate place where I have met my dearest friends, you!
First, I would like to apologize for missing last month’s post.
What was it that kept me away? Of course, I’m going to tell you. I signed up for a writing class called publish your non-fiction e-book in 10 days. The no shits and giggles guide to get off your ass and get a writing project done.
With a brilliant writing coach, named Jennifer Blanchard, who proves in a systematic method the process of writing, editing and publishing such a UMC, unidentified-mysterious-creature, otherwise known as a finished book, most assuredly can be completed and done so, satisfactory.
The experience was fantastic. Yet, with every writer high, occasionally, (for me-always,) comes a rock-bottom low. And while I lay wallowing in the depths of my self-imposed mire, a needed realization finally hit home. A projection that before was only half tapped.
I always believed if I was a good person people would be good to me, the reality, not so much. I always believed if I were truthful, kind and sincere the inhabitants of the human world would do so likewise, pretty major disappointment. If I showed support, I would receive support. If I left feedback, I would get feedback. If I smiled, the gesture would be returned. I always believed that what I gave in this lifetime I would get back, tenfold would be an even worse joke. I promise you I did not go that far.
Instead, this mindset was a major posit for failure. When the world would crash the dejection became internalized and the belief turned into it must be me. If you, too, are an alien being, you don’t know how to take a compliment when one is graciously given, closing yourself off. In steeling myself from repeated pains, the stone wall I erected truthfully kept me from receiving, anything, including everything satisfactory and good.
This horrible addiction and repeated habit took Sandi several years to break me. The simple act of crossing my arms deflected any kind words given or shown toward me as though I was undeserving. But there is more, the pattern of negative self-abuse prevents you from your given gifts of abundance that life waits to bestow upon you.
I always knew I had a devastating level of high expectations. One by one I learned to let a few of them go. Expectations must fully be replaced with intention. By doing this, the manifestation is yours alone and not one outside force can interfere with the mindset you have set forth. I knew I was getting close, but this hurdle I had yet to knock over.
A realm where one cannot jump into half-cocked. Positive was who I have always been, there were no problems there. But accepting that I deserved abundance was another thing, freeing my mind of what I once believed would set this forward motion and intent free.
The act of completing a project within a confined time frame leaves no room for those self-doubting negative monsters from the otherworld to play with your gullible hide. You just do and while you feel the fangs of frustration breathing on your neck you continue and before you realize the end goal is done and you can exhale.
I fooled me into thinking that because I was working with like-agenda creatures we would all be supporting each other in a similar fashion. Full throttle forward and bestowing handshakes, five-star reviews, and praise. You tell me the outcome? Another crushing let-down. Why? Again, I placed MY reward into someone else’s hands. A very dangerous thing.
But the message finally came in loud & clear.
I have always known there is a higher purpose for me. I am not going away. I will work in a constant fashion to be better than the day before. Guidance, knowledge, health, wealth and happiness will come naturally. (Again able-minded, willing to see our individual accountabilities and open our western minds to receive.)
I am there and ready to fully absorb this abundance that solely belongs to me. The difference now and the most beautiful thing is-I care, you matter, and, I have a need to share. I refuse to die until I have done something for humanity.
My deceased father’s birthday gift, today, his day, now in his honor has become mine.
Write on! ❤ Jessica
Can this day, seriously, be the first Wednesday of the month? The very first day of June just happens to fall on a Wednesday? Well, of course, the answer is yes, and good motivation for me to hut one, hut two, get it into gear and get moving!
(I couldn’t resist. I’m not a fan of ‘said’ above team, go ahead, hate. I am prepared.)
The real topic,
not football, I would like to talk about is our feelings? How do you feel about author New Release posts? Yes, the possibly annoying feed we receive when our WordPress Author friends have recently unveiled a new title in their bookshelf or a recent accomplishment. Are you happy, mad, irritated? Truthfully, do your eyes squint, get misty or grow red? Does a sad little smile quiver on your lips, filled with best wishes but reminding you of your-not quite yets? Does your chest clench or are those your fists under that desk? Now, hear the voice of your favorite evil character …
“Look into my eyes, child, and tell me how you really feel?”
I am doing honest research.
As I sit and watch the hundreds of feeds over the past year and a half, those particular articles don’t seem the most successful? Am I right? Many author pages just hang, blank. I see millions of hours put into these posts, yet, reception seems a bit cold. Or is that the Artic wind blowin’ round here…if you get what I mean?
The task of building an author’s platform is daunting. Understanding and knowing that the largest piece of marketing, your awesome self, is well, up to you. Recognizing there are no other options, eventually, mustering the courage, and, while at first joyful and exhilarating, the mission is gosh-darned difficult! (Since we are being honest in this essay, I will tell you I really wanted to use profanity in that last sentence, but my granddaughter is working at her desk next to me. And of course, I read everything out loud.)
Let’s see you upset this sweet lil’ tattle-tale, she’s daring you.
Okay, back on subject…
Why is that?
Since we all GET IT why are we not ultra supportive? Reading, leaving reviews? Everything we would hope our peeps would, in return, do for us? Just curious, putting it out there to ponder. I see the cliques work together, the friend of a friend’s friend, but even their shout outs are quite lackluster. Is that not our thing? As bloggers? No cliquishness? Just asking…
As a word freak, I will say in blatant unwavering tongues that if I see another article on the proper usage of present and past tenses I will jab this crazy sharp pencil, with a definite attitude, into my eye.
No, I really won’t, but jeez whiz, I’d rather go eat…
Enough is Enough…I know you feel my point. (It just happens…)
Oh’ goodness, wait! The last tidbit before I bore you any longer is the ‘donation’ thing…would you rather see a tip jar? I really am curious how you feel about these, too? I’d personally rather buy a book, a tangible. No? Are we not all working our hardest to earn a living? What am I tipping you for? Did you serve me up some new regurgitated advice with a side of whizziness?
It’s time to end this…Authors, Writers, Poets, and Dear Friends keep fighting the good fight, your work is valuable, I appreciate everything you have done and how hard you are working at a job that sometimes feels…well, hopeless, but don’t give in! You know the lyrics…”Let it snow, let it snow…” Elsa take it away GIRL!
Write On! ❤ Jessica
Brewer of Fine Gothic Tales
Sharing life through my love of reading and the joys of books!
Aspire to inspire
Adding a little humour, fire, salt and spicy loveliness
A Place to Connect with Readers
We Are Not Alone
Christian Fantasy Author
Making the world a richer place, one story at a time
The Cat's Write
"Life coaching with a positive outcome." ☥
..draining the Wells of brilliance @wordmek
My awesome views on awesome and not so awesome horror
Mindfulness, Spontaneity and Authenticity
Author of the Commune Series
Insane ramblings, musings, and philosophical rants of an opinionated soul.
Writer/ Angler/ Cyclist/ History Student
Romantic-Suspense & Thriller Writer. (London, UK)