Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Those Who Read Blogs Together

Have some odd conversations.  Here's a couple blurbs from last night.

Hubby said, "Redhead had a new one 8 hours ago."  
Me:  "Yeah, I read it, the one about..." 
Him:  "eHarmony Fail."  
"Yeah, that one."  He reads for a minute then asks, "what about that guy she had the date with?" 
"I don't know - someone asked the same question, but I read, commented and moved on.   I haven't been back yet to see if she said anything about it." 

Next:
"Did you read Babs Beetle?"  
Me:  "I did."  
Him:  "She has closed angle glaucoma."  
Me:  "Same as me." 
As he read through the comments, he noticed one where someone using eye drops not only missed her eye, but actually missed her entire face.  As he started to remark on that, he realized it was my comment, and said "I thought that sounded familiar", and I said, "that would be me."

I blog and he reads.  I think he got into it when I showed him the now famous Junk Drawer.  Any of y'all share your favorite reads?

Monday, August 23, 2010

Quote of the Week

I'll think about it...right after my nap.


To think too long about doing a thing often becomes its undoing. 
 - Eva Young


Sometimes we can over think a problem until we are so overwhelmed by the process that we make 
no further progress.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Night Terror

Photo courtesy of Magpie Tales
It was late, and darkness filled the room like death creeping in through the cracks in the old wooden floor.  The only light was that from a candle on the vanity. The silence screaming inside her head was deafening.  She suddenly had a strange, creepy feeling.  Barely breathing, she moved her eyes left and right, peering into shadows.  "I'm alone", she kept telling herself, "I'm alone.  I locked the doors and closed the blinds before I came up here." 

The old iron tub was quite the challenge to get up that narrow stairway.  The workmen were cracking jokes about rich gals and bubble baths as they lugged it up the steps.  She and her husband had bought the old house to restore, and the tub was one thing she insisted on.  Now, alone in the house for the first time since they moved in, she thought she would enjoy a long soak in her tub. 

But now she felt a chill even through the warm water.  It was then she heard the first creak.  It's an old house she thought, it will crack and pop from time to time.  It's OK.  In the hall, the floor creaked again.  Fear began to settle into her heart.  Maybe I'm not alone!  She looked around the room, trying to see anything that could help her.  There was no phone, and nothing to serve as a weapon.  She had refused to keep a gun in the house.  Only the innocent get killed with their guns, she had said.  Now here she lay, naked in her bubble bath in a dark room, in a big empty house, with a psycho killer on the other side of the door.  Maybe it's just a robber and if I stay quiet, he'll take what he wants and leave.  Please, God, don't let him find me.  Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears she was sure he'd hear it.  Then there was a footstep just outside the bathroom, and the rattle of the old glass door knob as it turned.  The door squeaked as it opened slowly.  Eyes wide open, she stared through the dim light toward the door.  As a dark figure entered the room, something glinted in the light from the candle.  It was a knife, the blade long and thin. The killer waved it menacingly at her.  This was it.  She would die here in her tub.  Now, oddly detached, her last thought was "I'm glad I had a pedicure".  She screamed one hoarse scream and slumped back into the now cooling water. 

"Lily, wake up.  Wake up, you were screaming."  It was her husband, gently calling her back to reality.

A fictional story written for Magpie Tales #28

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Blogging: The Value of Comments


We all want more comments on our blog.  But why?  Is it just a matter of boosting our egos, showing our popularity, or just making us feel good about ourselves?   Let's take a look at how valuable comments really are to both the reader and the author.

Validating the Author


Every time you read another writer's post and leave a comment, you are validating the writer.  You are saying - I have read and enjoyed your work, and found it to be entertaining, informative, or helpful.  This encourages us to continue writing and to put forth our best efforts.  So when you read something you really enjoyed, that made you laugh or even cry, please let the writer know.

Feedback

Not only are we validated by comments, but the feedback will help us with future posts.  As we build a relationship with our readers, we gain insight into what they relate to, or connect with the most.  With this knowledge, we can write more effectively to our audience, and our posts will have greater meaning than if we just write 'hit or miss' and hope someone finds it interesting.

Forming Friendships

As you receive and respond to comments, conversations spring up, and friendships are formed.  Although we may never actually meet our "blogging friends" face to face, the friendships are real, encouraging and supportive.

Promote your Blog

Here's where we get to the "me" part.  It's the old give to get concept.  Commenting on others' blogs will likely get you more comments on your own blog.  If you leave a sincere comment on someone's post, along with your "return address", they will probably come visit your blog, and hopefully leave you a comment in return.  The more active you are with reading and commenting, the greater the opportunity for others to discover you.

The Results

Whether given or received, comments provide helpful feedback, insight into your audience, new friends and, ultimately, more comments.  So next time you read something you like, give the writer a heads up.


Monday, August 16, 2010

Quote of the Week

Buckeye Butterfly

 "Just living is not enough," said the butterfly, "one must have sunshine, freedom and a little flower." 
- Hans Christian Anderson




So often we get caught up with our busy lives and forget to appreciate the little things like the joy of just watching the butterflies.