Aug 21, 2012 |
I don’t have as many blog followers as I strive for. It makes it a little hard to get sponsors for giveaways and such. But I keep at it. And little by little, great things are coming my way.
Nearly every day, I can count on comments from a core group of supporters. And nearly every day, I can count on spam comments urging me to sign up for the Quick and Easy Way to get followers. “Over 1,000 followers each day!” “It really works!” These spam messages tell me I’m not doing as well as I could be in my ratings. That I’m hard to find on google. That they know the answer.
But here’s the thing. Their answer is wrong. For me, anyway. Because followers isn’t the same as followers. And having a thousand readers because I filled out some form isn’t the same as having two hundred readers because they like what I write.
So here’s my promise to you: I won’t ever compromise just for ratings. Of course I’d love to write That Post that garners attention. That brings sponsors to my page and readers to my doorstep. But I refuse to join a club or write fluff to get me there. I write, because it’s what I do best. I write because without words, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.
I’d rather be rated on my merit than on some sign-up program. Sure, I don’t show up on google immediately. I’m okay with that. And so far my giveaway participants don’t number in the hundreds. But isn’t the lower competition better for you?
And if my authentic writing gives me a small group of authentic readers, I’d rather that than sell out to a large system that doesn’t really care. I’m not saying I’d turn my back on advertising and sponsorships. Heck, no! I’m saying, I want those companies to have faith in me. I want them to say, yeah. I know what I’m doing. And I want my ratings to improve authentically.
This is where you come in: If you like reading Frankly, My Dear…, would you tell your family and friends? A lot of great things are starting to happen and you don’t want them to miss out, do you?
- The Unemployment Cookbook (2nd Edition)
- Holiday-themed Giveaways, and plenty of them!
- Updates on my writing projects
- Shared stories from other bloggers
Did I mention corporate sponsorships? I’m hoping to partner again with Aroma Housewares for another Rice Cooker. I’m currently reviewing Scharffen Berger’s new Artisan chocolate bars.
And yes, other companies are noticing me. Thanks to your responses so far, I’m getting noticed.
So it’s not like winning the Lottery all at once. It’s more like earning it, one drop in the bucket at a time.
And I’m okay with that. Because that’s how This (Real) Girl rolls.
Share the word, would ya? Thanks.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Aug 20, 2012 |
I haven’t forgotten my goal from two months ago to have a new theme to aspire to each week. I just haven’t had the chance to document my ideals every Monday. I have a few ideas, and I’m hoping to blast my way through several within the next ten days or so to get “current”. So here’s a start.
This one is near and dear to my heart, and fitting for any purpose. Whether it’s journaling thoughts that you don’t want to share, working through a creative writing issue, or hammering out this week’s grocery list… you can’t go wrong when you put it in writing.
Writing helps me keep organized and remember things I’d otherwise forget. It helps me work through my thoughts and plans and keep track with my goals.
Writing keeps me healthy.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
You may also like:
Why I Write. Every Day.
What’s Your Writing Style? Creatively Overcoming Writer’s Block
Aug 19, 2012 |
[This post is one of my Ten Bible Verses I Try to Live By]
Psalm 37:4 is one of my favorites. The NIV version reads
“Delight yourself in the LORD,
and he will give you
the desires of your heart.”
I often feel this verse is misinterpreted.
It doesn’t tell us that once we devote ourselves to God He will bless us abundantly with those things on our wish list. He’s not Santa, waiting to mark us on the “Good” List; or withhold from us when we make mistakes.
Rather, it’s when we find ourselves lost in Him that we lose our sense of self-need, and He places in us those desires that benefit us and the world around us.
It’s not a sin to want a nice house, food on the table, or even a phone call from a friend. It’s not wrong to choose a fashionable outfit over basic denim. It’s the reason for choosing these, for making these our focus, that’s at the core of this verse.
God is not a genie in a bottle: waiting for us to ask just so He can grant us three wishes. What He does is something greater. He puts in our heart the proper desires.
When we are focused on the Lord, the little things come into perspective. Sure, life isn’t always a bowl of cherries. But knowing that my heart is in the right place helps me sleep at night.
Without Him in my heart, in my life; those desires could be meaningless. They could give way to other, less fulfilling desires.
I’m thankful for my desires to write. Cook. Tend to my house and household. Earn a living. Give back. Be somebody. Stand up. Serve Him.
And I’m thankful for the family and friends He continues to surround me with. Because my biggest desire is to love and be loved.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Aug 18, 2012 |
Lately, I’ve been rediscovering lost memories. I’ve been chatting with old friends on Facebook. Looking through old photo albums. Reading old journal entries and blog posts.
I’m not one to reminisce. I’m either in the moment or living for the future. The past is the past. It can’t be changed. And while I have solid childhood memories, I don’t often allow myself the luxury of recalling those favored moments more than once in a great while. This is also because I have a tendency to relive emotions that come with certain memories.
Because of this, I can write amazing character profiles. I associate more than just memories. I associate music and ambiance and flavor and fragrance and sound and texture and feelings. I incorporate entire experiences.
But sometimes, triggers can bring me back to more than I bargained for.
Over ten years ago I was engaged. I shouldn’t have been. But I was a single mom with a young girl. I was lonely, and felt alone. I met a man who showered me with affections. He was not cruel. He was not mean. We just were not a good match. People told us so. We didn’t listen, and after months of dating he proposed. I eventually broke up with him when it was clear we weren’t going to be able to work out some of our more important conflicts. It was the smart thing: to let go. But it was painful. And once again, I felt alone. But more than that: I felt like I deserved to be alone. I’d ignored those who loved me enough to tell me why this wasn’t good. I’d turned my back on the advice of family and friends. I’d asked them to embrace my choice, proclaiming that I knew best.
But I didn’t.
So I deserved to be alone. And hurt.
Or so I thought.
He’d taken me to see the movie “Autumn in New York”. I can’t begin to list the reasons why I love this movie. It’s by no means a classic. It didn’t win any awards. But it had me from the moment the first leaf fell in Central Park to Diana Krall’s “Let’s Fall in Love”. I had the CD soundtrack that I annoyed people with day after day after day. It was, for me, the perfect experience.
And then we broke up. And because I had not just memories but experiences associated with Autumn in New York, I could no longer listen to the music. I never wanted to see the movie. I could never think about someday going to New York.
I just couldn’t.
It pulled at me like sticky spaghetti strings. With any real force, the draw would be broken. I was thankful to live here in the desolate desert where I didn’t have to smell crisp autumn winds or see colored leaves. I could pretend the movie never existed. Because to admit that not only did it exist, but that I liked it, was to admit that I wasn’t perfect. That I longed for something I couldn’t, and shouldn’t, have. It was to admit that I’d failed with my family and friends. And that was the most painful loss of all.
This is the thinking pattern I held to for most major disappointments. I could no longer watch this, hear that, go here, eat there. All because it brought back bad memories. And pain. And shame.
Until eight years later. I just made a decision to change my way of thinking. This part puzzles me, because for all my experience-association, the only thing I remember about this moment is feeling empowered. I’d decided several things in that moment.
I’d decided I wasn’t going to hold on to bad memories. I would recognize them, but no longer let them hold me hostage.
I’d decided I was going to allow myself to remember without experiencing every moment.
I’d decided I wasn’t going to let the memory of a long-ago man dictate how I continued my life without him.
I’d decided it was time to stop avoiding old memories, and instead replace them with new ones.
I’d decided to order the DVD from Amazon.
The next four days were filled with a new excitement for me. It was almost a combination of meeting an old friend and going on a first date. I was finally allowing myself to be me. And to be happy about it.
When the DVD arrived, I wasn’t disappointed. I worried that I’d built it up in my head to be a wonderful theatrical production. It wasn’t. But I already knew that. It was just what I remembered it to be. And it felt good to remember.
Since that moment, I no longer run from my memories. I change them. I don’t let them haunt me and keep me subdued. I make new memories. This is still my town. This is where I live. Work. Love. And have family and the same friends.
I refuse to let an old memory take that from me.
The movie is no longer associated with that man. It’s associated with my love for New York. The restaurant we used to frequent is no longer associated with him. It’s associated with friends and great conversations and possibilities.
Life isn’t something to keep running away from or locked in a closet. It’s something to be treasured, exhibited, and put on display.
Life is something to be proud of. The weaknesses that let others be strong for us. Even the parts that make us stronger for ourselves.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy:
Writing Prompt: Songs
Why I Don’t Go To Carnivals in October
Bunco at Tiffany’s
When I Get to New York
Mojo Movie Review of the Week: Breakfast at Tiffany’s
Aug 17, 2012 |
It’s been two months since Dot’s boyfriend passed away from failed kidneys and a donor heart. Two months of being fine until we hear a song that reminds us of him. See a photo of him on Facebook. Remember his laugh, his smile, his personality.
Dot just got her driver’s license. She passed the test last week. I’m so proud of her. And in his honor, she’s chosen to be an organ donor. I tried to talk her out of it when she applied for her permit last year. I don’t like thinking of the idea of her being gone. And letting her be a donor means accepting the possibility that someday, it could happen like that. She could be gone before I’m ready. Before she’s really lived.
But now he’s gone. And she’s still here. And while his is a painful loss that ripples our peaceful pond with its intermittent storms, I see more than his reflection in the murky waters. I see his potential. Still. In the sun that still shines. In the waves that carry us out and back in again to safety and security and comfort.
He is gone, but he is still with us.
Gone but not forgotten, they say. An infant once gave a heart, so that Loukas Fischer could have 17 more years on this earth. 17 years of growing up and laughing and being a boy and falling in love with my daughter.
And, God forbid, if something tragic should happen to Dot, she wants to return the favor to someone else.
It took his passing for me to realize what a wonderful gift she wants to give.
I’m so proud of her. And still so thankful for him.
Photo courtesy Nicole Jenkins Photo.
“Well done, my good and faithful servant.”
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote.
