Project 313 – Post No. 139

I rarely follow writing blogs. Rather, I rarely follow blogs where the blog’s owners post fiction or poetry. I do follow a few blogs with advice about writing. 

There are a number of reasons for my apparent hypocrisy . . . yes, for them who don’t know, this blog contains a lot of my fiction. No poetry, though; 

I ain’t got the brain
to get poems from my vein
and oft get a migraine
if I go through the pain
to struggle and strain
to rhyme words in vain.
To write poems is a drain
and thus poems are my bane.


Anyway, the reasons why I don’t read fiction in other blogs is because I write fiction and that makes me a difficult reader to entertain and please. 

First of all, I’m particular about what I read. Personal stuff is usually out even if fictionalized. Also, literary style (meaning, without an actual structure or point) is plain annoying. Finally, I like decent endings. For some reason, many people like to write dark tales of this or that person suffering. Most people know my motto (Life is difficult but at least it’s short) and that motto reflects my understanding of life. Meaning, I don’t need my entertainment to remind me of it. In fact, the opposite is true. I need my entertainment to make me forget it. 

Second, if I read something, I have this overwhelming urge to comment and that gets me into occasional trouble because third, I don’t follow the “always praise” rule. 

I assume my readers are like me when it comes to my writing . . . most don’t read the fiction.

The blog posts containing my fiction are the least read of all my blog posts. That makes sense for stuff that’s posted after I began adding passwords to the stories (to preserve publication rights) as few people have compelling reasons to e-mail me for the passwords. All the other fiction that I have that’s just out there for anyone to read . . . and they don’t.

If I’m lucky, I get four to six readers when I post any fiction. Few of my pieces top 30 views and that’s lifetime (as long as eight years now).

But not when I write blog posts about writing. Those posts do pretty well. Mind you, we’re not talking hundreds of views but it’s still many multiples of the views my fiction get. I would link some of them but I’m slowly reorganizing my categories and tags so everything is a mess right now. Besides, there are better sources than this non-poem-writing-writer’s blog to learn from.

This is where I have to repeat my stern warning:
I’m not looking for sympathy or encouragement and I’m not complaining. After all, I do the same thing to other writers. I suspect all readers are particular about what they chose to read. It’s just how things are and I don’t take it as a reflection on me or a judgment of my work especially since I happen to like what I write. 

And now, the photo:

Project 313 139

. . . I’m not sure why but I’m reminded of the three branches of government . . . 

You can sort of make them out but they don’t quite resemble what they’re supposed to be and they sure look to have a lot of dirt on them. 

I’ve said it before and I’ll repeat it here . . . life, society, and this world have gotten more and more complicated and it seems we’re all looking for ways to make it simple again . . . probably why we fall for the “simple” solutions offered by callous politicians. 

I wish there were another way . . . 

. . . hmm . . . nah; one still needs to eat and go to the bathroom . . . 

There are many people who have amazing ideas which sound great and at first look to offer nothing but positive results . . . however, the odd are they’re ignoring stuff in their effort to simplify stuff and make it look good. 

Like . . . New Age Road Commission Early Urban Planning Concept Before They Realized They Left Out The Roads.

New Age Road Commission Early Urban Planning Concept Before They Realized They Left Out The Roads

And . . . that’s it

Some of these posts will likely be longer as the mood hits me, but most will be thus; short, uninteresting, bland, and relentless.

You can read about Project 313 HERE.

That’s it. This post has ended . . . except for the stuff below.


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