Nov 25, 2017 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Social Media Saturday
So, here’s the thing. Yah, I know. Some of you hate that phrase. But there it is anyway. What? I’m gonna pretend it doesn’t exist? Fuggedaboutit.
I’ll keep this as short and sweet as one teaspoon of sugar in your coffee. [Unless that coffee mug’s a 24 oz. tumbler. Then we’re gonna be here a while.]
So, you’re on social media. Because you have to be, not because you want to be. And you hate it. I mean, You. HATE. it. Am I right? Yup. Know how I know? ‘Cause y’all tell me so. Regularly.
Why do some of you hate it? Because y’all think you don’t have anything to say. Or sure, you can chat up the store clerk with digressions on the value of laundry detergent fragrances, or your family at the dinner table when it comes to tonight’s hockey game or next week’s NCIS episode. But then you get in front of your Twitter feed.
And you stare. I mean, you just stare.
And that blinky spinny icon thingy on whichever media site you’re looking at. It taunts you.
It says, “You’ll never be as quippy as the next guy. Never!” And it gives off a computerized maniacal laugh. Muahahahahah . . . Okay. Too far? Yah. Maybe. Let’s walk it back a few steps.
Anyway. So how is it you have something to say to friends and your family and your coworkers, but y’all don’t know what to say to your Swarm?
Two words: Performance Anxiety.
Y’all get stressed.
*Insert Gibbs slap here!*
Stop it. Stop being stressed. Stop thinking you have nothing to say.
Obviously, you have a lot to say. And there’s an audience. They’re already ready for you. Honest!
All you have to do, is not change your voice.
Did ya hear me on that? It just means write the way you talk. Super simple. Not sure you can? Record yourself. Listen to how you hold the coffee audience captive. Pay attention to those “hello” moments at the gas station. And when you’re ready to share something of yourself in the world, pick a person to address. Direct your posts to one or two people, not the world at large.
It can be someone specific: Your 23-year-old daughter. Or the Postal Clerk you chat with once a week. Or it can be a general idea of someone: A 30-ish tall, dark and handsome guy named Rain. Or some insecure Italian redhead named Josie. The point is, you know how to reach these people. You already speak their language. So speak it into your keyboard.
Yah, it takes some practice. And here and there you need to pick a different audience. Maybe you send your tweets to Paige and your Facebook posts to SuperGirl. LinkedIn is for those business cohorts who said you wouldn’t amount to much [insert snickering laugh here]. But once you know who your audience is, you’ll recognize your voice. And you’ll be able to say everything you need to say.
Promise.
TWEET THIS: Social Media Saturday: That Time You Thought You Had Nothing to Say @MollyJoRealy #socialmedia
And Frankly, My Dear . . . : That’s all she wrote!
Nov 24, 2017 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
Frankly, My Dear . . . :Five Things Friday
This post is late again, but that’s because I’ve been trying to think what I could possibly write. This week I’ve been overwhelmed with a sense of thankfulness and gratitude. Not just for the season that it is, but because so many things come to mind that make me smile and fill my soul with joy.
Yes, thankfulness is what this post is about.
- Words. This goes without saying (no pun intended, y’all), but without words, I’d be lost. I am strongest, healthiest, happiest, when I’m able to communicate and network. Some creatives paint, or design buildings, or calculate equations. I word. Yeah, like a verb. I’m so incredibly-can’t-describe-it-fully over-the-moon in love with words.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Thankful for Words
- Food. Because I need to eat. And I love to cook and bake. Because being in the kitchen is my next favorite place to being in front of my laptop or a good book. There’s something beautiful about adding ingredients together to make something edible, delicious, and worth sharing.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : The Unemployment Cookbook
- Books. Like y’all didn’t see this one coming. Of course I’m crazy thankful for books. Books to read, to learn from, even books that aren’t so greatly written are helpful (as in a what-not-to-do sort of way). Whether they’re on Kindle or in print, books are magical worlds to encounter and each world is different. I can time travel, fix someone else’s problems, experience cultures I’ve yet to visit. I can be a superhero. All without leaving home.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Thankful for Books
- Happy Planners. I know. I talk about these a lot. But especially now that I’m gearing up for next year. I love the creative scheduling it gives me. The ability to do life on my terms, the color-coordinating of my week with my topics with my focus with my destination with my mood. Happy Planning tracks my reading, writing, social media, work, house, budget, and social schedules. They keep me on track with projects. And they allow me to be creative through every step. So yeah. I’m super thankful for Happy Planners.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : MoJo’s Happy Planners
- Families. There are so many family blends. My blood family takes the cake. We are a crazy, fun, hilarious, loving group of peeps that have so many inside jokes y’all need an interpreter at the family dinners. Then there’s the church family, the writing family, the faux fams, the friends-closer-than-a-brother-family, and all my besties who make up a quasi-sister-clan. I’m thankful for so many things, but mostly for these people who love me as I am yet keep pushing me to strive toward a better greatness than I see in myself. You are all beautiful, and I couldn’t make this journey without you.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Family
With open arms and a peacock feather for everyone,
Happy Thanksgiving Weekend!
~Molly Jo
And Frankly, My Dear . . . : That’s all she wrote!
Nov 23, 2017 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
Today, now, this moment, I want to thank you. I want you to know how wonderful you are. To see yourself as the amazing, wonderful, incredible person you are. And I want to thank you for sharing yourself with the world.
Your light shines in a way no other light shines.
Your smile brightens days.
Your words give insight.
Your care brings joy to so many hearts.
Your laughter, your tears, your humanity draw others to you.
Because of you, there are less lonely people in the world.
Thank you.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : It takes one candle
And keep effervescing!
And Frankly, My Dear . . . : That’s all she wrote!
Nov 21, 2017 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
The Assault: Harbingers, Cycle Two
I’m having the best evening. Seriously. The. Best. Evening.
My living room is decced for the holidays. I finagled Friday off work for a four-day weekend. I’m surrounded by three-fourths of Catford Manor. And I just finished reading a really good book.
So you know what comes next.
Sure, you do.
WHOOP! WHOOP! SPOILER ALERT!
Read no further if you don’t want to know the story.
Seriously.
Leave.
Now.
Still here?
#awesomesauce
Read on:
First, I’m glad I was slow in reading this book. It just means it will be that much sooner when I get the next Cycle. Yay, me. A lot of really fun things happened today, a lot of arrows pointing me to get back in the writing and social media games. Not like I haven’t been, but I have spent extra focus on the home and day job. Which, side note, has led to a great set up for next year. Locals, stay tuned.
Anyway. Back to it.
Pops opens the book with his character, Tank, on the edge of a fifty-story building in San Diego, looking over a terribly thick, unnatural, inhuman fog. And this fog, well, it’s not just thick. It has things- evil things- living in it. And Tank’s about to jump fifty stories off a building to . . . What? We don’t know. That’s just the prologue.
So Tank rewinds a few hours and begins to recap. He and the team were in Florida with Andi’s grandparents, preventing another supernatural event when they received plane tickets to San Diego, and invitations to a retirement party for architect Allen Krone. Even young Daniel gets to come with them. So Tank, squirmy in his tux, admires Andi and the others all dressed to the nines, and their luxury limo ride.
Outside, the fancy building is lit in a blue and green glow. Inside, Andi picks up on the patterns in the flooring, in the lighting. There are these trees-not-trees, more like glass trees, that are also lit blue. The fountain is lit blue and green. The team is greeted and directed to the row of elevators, and one opens before they even push the button. The Professor explains their invitations must have RFID chips. Don’t even get me started.
The elevator glows red, which may or may not be significant. And as the team is discussing what they should and should not do at the party, the Professor sighs and says, “Zebra.” And then he explains.
“First thing doctors learn in med school is this: When you hear the sound of hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras.”
And considering I took that and turned it into how to be a zebra and not an ordinary horse, well, this book just won my heart!
They arrive on the top floor and are enjoying the spoils of basically crashing the party. While the others are trying to figure out how to act inconspicuous and what their next move is, Daniel takes the lead and pulls Mr. Krone to them. The Professor steps up and asks Krone to discuss the building models on display.
Daniel gets all the chocolate ice cream he can handle and Andi indulges in some red velvet cake. [Thanks for writing in the good food, there, Al.]
And then, rumble-rumble. I mean, hullo! It’s San Diego. There’s a good thirty-second quake happening here! Tank holds Andi and Brenda safe, and when it’s over they look for Daniel. He’s over by the bank of windows so Tank rushes to grab him in case of aftershocks. He barely glances outside when Daniel starts screaming. He takes him back to Brenda and Andi, and the Professor joins them.
Now, reader intrusion here: But the benefits of a novella is it can be read in one sitting. And this one was. Hot dog! Because, girl!, things are getting in-tense round here!
They hear a horrible scream. A man at the window has just vomited. Tank again rushes toward the windows, and the man is terrified. That’s when Tank looks. And sees . . . something. But what? It’s a living monster in the fog. This ridiculous, dense, demon-filled fog that completely covers the ground by five feet. From his perch, Tank can look down and sees this monster.
People say there ain’t no such thing as monsters, but tell that to a seal being chased by a killer whale. Monster is in the eye of the beholder, and I was seeing something monstrous.
Oh, and through this, the team has ascertained that Allen Krone is very ill, perhaps dying. Tank gets the Professor to the window, and Krone joins them. Krone doesn’t handle the view well and nearly collapses. His business partners rush to his rescue but they don’t see what he sees.
And that’s when our team know more than ever something terrible is happening.
The professor turned. “Tank. The fog is rising.”
Well, that’s where I’ll leave ya. Tank’s on a ledge about to jump into this beast. Our team is tearful, afraid. And the monsters are reaching for him.
What happens next? Get the book and find out. As always, you won’t be sorry.
With a reading lamp and protective cats,
Happy reading.
~Molly Jo
And Frankly, My Dear . . . : That’s all she wrote!
