Tag Archives: Writing

Ramble: Watching the Traffic

The great thing about blogging is one can watch the traffic moving through the site. The ebbs and flows of readers wandering past what one has written. Overall, I really don’t get overly obsessed about what I am writing and who is reading. At least not like I did the first few months of blogging on WordPress.

When I first started my WordPress blog I became addicted to the traffic counts and the endorphin rush of “Likes”. ~OH GOD THEY LIKE ME!~

But I am over that now. Mostly. Somewhat.

Generally I get a steady stream of about 60 views per day. And since I don’t actively try and force that number that is really quite amazingly good! Thanks folks! From the search traffic it would appear about half my daily traffic is from search results sending people my way. My tagging is working!

What I do find puzzling is what gets “Liked” and what doesn’t! So today I posted POEM: Preamble in honour of National Poetry Month. It currently has 11 likes already. For me to get that many Likes in one day on any post I write is phenomenal! But the question is why?

It isn’t really that important a question or that compelling a puzzle – just one of those things that occasionally tweaks my brain and makes me go “huh – wonder why that might be?”

Oh and for those that are curious – I actually do not own a dog. That is all fiction.

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April: National Poetry Month

How on earth did I forget this?

I have been so busy with my daily posting on days and the occasional poems – that I missed that this is National Poetry Month. A month long celebration of poems, poetics and poets.

“National Poetry Month is a month-long, national celebration of poetry established by the Academy of American Poets. The concept is to widen the attention of individuals and the media—to the art of poetry, to living poets, to our complex poetic heritage, and to poetry books and journals of wide aesthetic range and concern. We hope to increase the visibility and availability of poetry in popular culture while acknowledging and celebrating poetry’s ability to sustain itself in the many places where it is practiced and appreciated.”

I had better get cracking and write some poems now!

 

FF: Stage Fright

Friday Fictioneer

Friday Fictioneer

“So you enjoyed the play? Here let me show you the backstage secrets…”

John guided me up-stage around the sets, then we exited stage-left. The after performance tangle of props and costumes spilling off larger props; shadows heavy around us, the murmur of the cast party sounding far away.

His hands suddenly on my arms pulling me close into the smell of scotch and cigarettes. His mouth unexpected on my own, making my insides quake. I pulled back and he laughed, “Just relax and enjoy the performance …”

In panic I kneed him , and he fell gasping, “Dammit boy…”

(101 words)

Friday Fictioneers Central

Friday Fictioneers Central

FF: Sugar Shack

Friday Fictioneers

Friday Fictioneers

We huddle cold misery under dark twisted trees, watching sunlight fade into blackness. Father said not to leave the path, but what choice did we have? Han is sulking now the bread is gone. The birds have eaten the crumbs. Distant laughter spins us to our feet.
“Did you hear that, Gertie?” Hans squints past the trees. I do too.

“Look – a fire…” He pulls me tripping over tree roots. Brambles tearing at our clothing. We stumble into a clearing where the sweetest little house sits, painted in bright candy colours.

I am so hungry I could eat the door.

(101 words)

Friday Fictioneers Central

Friday Fictioneers Central

FF: Detained

Friday Fictioneers Prompt

Friday Fictioneers Prompt

“This way sir!” His sharp voice bouncing off the concrete walls.

Obediently I shuffled after him, the whisper of my bare feet lost in the clomping of his military boots. I was quickly lost in the turns and descending stairways, but he knew this compound better than his own home.
We arrived at a steel door. He pointed me inside clanging it closed. The merry jingle of keys sending cold shocks down my skin.

“When do I see a lawyer?”

He looked through the grate and laughed. “After you confess of course.”
He marched away, whistling Chopin as he left.
(99 words)

Friday Fictioneers Central

Friday Fictioneers Central