Here I am, holding the latest, and probably last, edition of the most recent HowToWriteGud mag over the flames of my barbecue. True, I haven't paid the bill to resubscribe, so that will probably limit future issues, if any. But, honestly? I don't think I want to spend my hard earned money on any more of this wonderful advice.
I can't find anything in here that wont be contradicted on the internets for about six more months. Then about half the literary gurus will embrace it. And by the end of the following year it will be gospel until yet another swing in the publishing world's hormones will smack it back 180 degrees. Talk about writing or not writing to trends!
It was in these types of mags that I started reading because I was finally serious about writing something worthwhile to publish, that I found I must have a platform. Even if I was years away from submitting to literary agents, I at least needed a Facebook or MySpace profile. (MySpace?????????????????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! for real?) So, I got 'em. Then it was the blog. Every author needs a blog. And it needs to be a good one, that engages readers, so they can get to know you and interact with you.
You know how you're supposed to make a good blog, Young Lovers? You pick a topic that you're good at and make it a theme. It's also good if the theme matches your writing style and topics. Yep, that's what all the mags told me. Then, I read it on the Internet. That of course made it gospel.
I have to admit, I don't think I've defined this very well on this blog, thus far. Hence the plans to change it up. And, yeah, I do have a plan, but for fun's sake I did give this some thought...and I wrote a little essay:
WHAT I'M GOOD AT by Aurelia Blue
I can tell when my sugar is too high because sweet things taste too sweet
I can tell when the painters and decorators are due in because I get super nauseous and can smell EVERYTHING. I know when I'm going to ovulate because I get a strange little pain on the side whose turn it is. I can tell the weather with my knees and nose because my PopPop taught me how.
I believe all this is possible for each of us and the earth provides all we need to diagnose and cure ourselves, too. But I have no real idea how to do this and if you mix the wrong things, you get cancer.
And the truth is, I'm so wonderfully aware of my body because it was molested. It's called "hypersensitivity/self concern" and it's a mental illness. I also, while living with several mental illnesses (well medicated and appropriately counseled, of course ;) ) do not write about them exclusively.
I know a lot about kids too. All kinds of helpful hints like, if you carry a sharpie in your purse, you can write each child's name on whatever is their's (new toys from Dollar General, Mc Donald's cups, etc.) so they can keep it straight and not get upset with one another for touching things that are "miiiiiines!", thereby reducing your stress and fighting amongst your children. You like that? I have a million of them. But the truth here is that I have 4 kids. I was an au pair and a preschool teacher and an auntie before them. So what? I could talk for hours about this. But really, do you want to hear about my kids and what we did last weekend EVERY time you read this blog? I think there are puh-lenteeeeeeeee of parenting blogs out there to tell you not to feel bad for f***ing up your children and how darling their little SammySweets is... *shudders*
I used to be good at drawing. I had an accident about ten years ago that left me with injuries that are slowly robbing me of my dominant hand's function. I could tell you all about the loss, the pain, and of course, the importance of indomitableness of spirit. Crap, that's my little wake-up schpeel I give myself every morning just so I can get out of bed. I've got it down to a science. Wanna hear it? Yeah, didn't think so. I know you wish me well, Young Lovers. I do. I also know that unless you've been in this kind of pain, it's boring as hell to hear about. I get bored hearing about it, myself, sometimes. It's Ohhh-Kaaaaaay. ;)
In the same vein, I'm also good at enduring infertility. Yeah, I did mention four kids up there. Yep, they're all biologically mine. There's your freakin' testimony. Don't need another panicky blog filled with abbreviations such as dh, dd, ds, AF, o'd, ov, and ttc, on that front! I shall continue to endure in relative silence. Moving on.
Oh, then there's my political and religious views. Dear God(dess) (ooooooh, Google Image that word... prittah!!!) help us all if I get started down that road. Here's the deal, I was raised by activist parents. They save the reindeer, forests, soil, as well as the disabled and downtrodden every day before breakfast. They make it look like child's play. This would be one biiiiigggggasssssssssssss intense blog if I wanted to go there. Oh, but wait a minute, the Unicorns, Mers and Dystop-ers are all too familiar with these issues... hmmmmmmmm... yeah well, we'll see.... but for now, PASS.
OK. ENOUGH. LET'S JUST END THE ESSAY HERE.
The real deal is, you like it when I tell you a story. This is what you tell me in my inbox. This is the support you give me on FB, and Twitter and even Pinterest (yeah, I totally did start dabbling on there last week. Look me up! ;) ) You've even been checking in Tuesdays even though you know I'm not blogging or even celebrating AureliaBluesDayTuesday regularly during this transition.
And I love you for that!
I. L<3VE. YOU. FOR. THAT.
Thank you. {{{{{{{{{{{{{{{supersonsicsister/brotha/writer/mama/papahugs}}}}}}}}}}}}}}
So, I'm gonna keep at it. In spite of the fact that the internets are now saying the blog is dead, Twitter is Now. and Pinterest is The Future. Oh, and that magazine smoldering at the bottom of my fire pit? Yeah, it said literary agents don't wanna catch me doing social media badly...
Oops. Oh well, to them I say, I'm here writin'! It's like lightnin'! Get used to it!!!!!! ...or something.
Little RaleyBlueNote: They also say a good blog should end with a question to get you some commentin' interaction and show the LitAge's you can media socialize. So tell me, Young Lovers, what are you good at? Quick tell me! Flood my comment space. I need it! The little
*Further Note: Just in case it's not clear, this blog entry was written tongue and cheek. It is not meant to be indicative of my interest, of lack there of, in literary trends, and mores, or my ability to take instruction and constructive criticism. ;) Just in case you were worried.
