Tag: writing

Thursday Thoughts…

Wiwohka1 Comment

It’s been over 30 years since I raised my babies, and at least 5 since I watched over a baby full-time.

While I’d like to say that I’ve got this, no problem, there is still some butterflies in my stomach.

I’m no spring chicken, as they say. Will this body hold up?

My relationship with my daughter is a fragile one, do to my own shortcomings as a mother. It’s almost as if my grandbaby is bridging a gap between the two of us, providing an area of safe ground for rebuilding bonds, once more.

I’ve always wanted and prayed for the opportunity to be there for my daughters, and be the MeeMaw that my grandchildren will adore. Now is one of my chances!

Oh lord, I pray that you give me that which I need, for the sake of those I love.

I don’t even know why I’m writing all this stuff down, really. I guess it helps to put it down on paper, or a computer screen, in this case.

No need for answers, or words of self-affirmation.

It simply helps to write out my thoughts. Then I can observe where they take me, or how they keep me grounded, if that makes any sense.

Obviously, I can remember how to care for a baby. That’s not the issue, I don’t think. Most probably, it’s the fact that she’s not mine, first of all. Caring for something so precious that belongs to another is a wonderful, yet, terrifying venture. I don’t think I ever really doubted myself as a mother. It just felt natural, some how.

With my granddaughter, I feel inadequate, somehow. I’m not mamma! I can’t make all the monsters go away, and make the world feel safe like she can. I smell different than mom, sound different, and behave in a different manner. This will all be a huge adjustment for her, and my desire is to make it as gentle as possible.

Life can take one in so many differing directions, offering a multitude of opportunities and experiences. But something about a baby on scene, and the rest of the world seems to fade to grey… for me, at least.

Babies are such a vivid example of Gods design for humans. They begin life so small, and fragile. Each day, we find their eyes full of wonder at the world around them, as they grow and develop. It’s such an awesome thing to observe a baby learning their first words, taking their first steps, and becoming more independent, and self-reliant.

I feel so honored to get the opportunity to be a part of Maisie’s world. And, you’ll get to read about all of it. Most likely, my Thursdays will be thoughts of all that we’ve been up to, and how we’re both getting along. Maybe that’s boring for you, but honestly, it’s not really about you, nor is it about me any longer.

I’m kind of sick of talking about myself all the time. I think she’s much more interesting, by far.

With all that being said, I am confident that this will be one adventure worth documenting.

Let the fun begin, right?! Well, not til Monday, that is. Until then, I’m gonna play hard like I did when I was a kid. Remember when you knew that school was starting up soon? You played even harder, stayed up later, and slept til it was lunchtime, knowing that those easy days of summer were fast disappearing. I’m gonna play like that, only I do my playing on the computer. Don’t judge! Like I said earlier, I’m no spring chicken anymore.

My adventures are all virtual. Why? Because my body hurts less, afterwards. You do the math…

What’s with all the rating?

Wiwohka1 Comment
Woman in yellow sweater looking confused while holding a menu in a café
Daily writing prompt
What’s a classic book that you think is overrated?
View all responses

First we’re asked to give up the goods on who we thought were underrated people, and now we must seek out an overrated classic book. What gives? Maybe WordPress has pilfered my idea from Monday Messages. It was my idea first, just so you know.

For the sake of WordPress’s reputation, and to maintain my own literary standings, instead of answering the prompt, I’m going to explain it.

Exactly what do they want to know, here? How many really understand what is considered to be overrated about a piece of literature?

Help us out, Mr. McGoogle, would ya…

Commonly cited “overrated” classic books often feature slow pacing, archaic language, or excessive repetition that frustrates modern readers, according to discussions on Reddit and Goodreads. Top examples include The Catcher in the Rye (whiny protagonist), Moby Dick (too much whaling data), and The Great Gatsby (overhyped narrative). [1, 2, 3, 4, 5]

Frequently Cited Overrated Classics

  • The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger: Often criticized for having an annoying, whiny, and unrelatable protagonist.
  • Moby Dick by Herman Melville: Criticized for being a “slog” with too many technical, tedious chapters on whale biology and whaling history.
  • The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald: Frequently deemed overhyped, with readers finding the characters unsympathetic and the story unengaging.
  • Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë: Described as overly miserable, with a complex, unenjoyable structure.
  • The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne: Often criticized for slow pacing and an agonizingly detailed, boring start.
  • Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad: Cited for being difficult to follow and harboring dated, problematic themes.
  • Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes: While acknowledged for its historical influence, many find it repetitive and far too long.
  • The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway: Criticized for a “boring” plot that feels minimal to some readers. [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8]

Common Reasons for Overrating

  • Stylistic Overload: Novels like Ulysses by James Joyce are criticized for “willful obscurity” and being “a dead end in fiction”.
  • Outdated Content: Books like Huckleberry Finn are sometimes viewed as outdated rather than timeless.
  • School Curriculum Fatigue: Many readers forced to read classics like Lord of the Flies or Romeo and Juliet in school often view them negatively.
  • Repetitive Satire: Don Quixote is often considered tedious because the humor is repetitive.
  • Misleading Marketing: The Da Vinci Code is listed because it was marketed as a high-stakes masterpiece, while many saw it as a sensationalized, inaccurate thriller. [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6]

Note: The perception of a book as “overrated” is subjective and often debated among readers, with many of these titles remaining enduring staples of literature for good reason. [1]

While I can’t say that there are any particular books I’ve found to be overrated, per say, though there were a few I wish I hadn’t read. But it wasn’t for the reason of being overrated. I just didn’t enjoy the content of the story.

Forming an opinion about a books rating isn’t something I really practice. I don’t read reviews of a book before choosing to read it. I simply read the description on the back of the cover to decide whether I want to dive in, or not. I have read books that friends have suggested for one reason, or another. But not to rate the story. There was something in the content that I sought, based on what that friend may have shared about the story.

Being that I’m a writer, perhaps it gives me more grace and understanding for those that came before. I appreciate all the hard work that went into creating and publishing those books. While I may not enjoy certain writing styles, I can’t judge the content of a story based on that. How would I like it if someone judged my writing, purely based on whether they like the way I told the story. If one doesn’t like it, another will. Everyone is different, and so there will always be opinions from one end of a topic, to the other.

Though I couldn’t give an answer to the prompt this morning, I did learn more about what makes a book good or bad, underrated or overrated, and whether or not I want to read a book til the end.

That was a bit of a read, wasn’t it? Now I’m hungry.

Let’s eat cookies…

Book-shaped cookies in various colors with titles like Stories, Recipes, Mystery, and Magic

Toothful Tuesday…

Wiwohka11 Comments

Early morning dental appointment, then back home for writing. That was the plan, anyway. What could go wrong, right?!

What is it about the dentist that sends so many of us round the bend, so to speak?

I’ve birthed three children, endured numerous injuries, surgeries, and painful procedures, over the years. One would think that I’d become a powerful weapon of war, with my pain tolerance being put to the test, on so many occasions.

Well, apparently not!

I’ve had this appointment for weeks, and there isn’t any easy way around a cavity. It had to be filled. While I wasn’t looking forward to the procedure, I certainly wasn’t that stressed about it, at least that was what I originally thought. I guess I was wrong.

I get up early, enjoy a cup of my peppermint tea, and throw myself together, which only takes like five minutes. I actually headed off to the dentist early, before I could change my mind, lol. Arriving safely, I sat quietly waiting for my name to be called.

Once I’d been brought to the dentist chair, I settled in and waited. I’ll admit that my stress was rising, with all the sounds and smells that accompany a medical procedure. After nearly fifteen minutes of brooding in my chair, they arrived to give me the shot that would numb my face for the next six hours.

Needless to say, the needle part hurt. While it was painful, I didn’t think it was the end of the world, or anything. As tough as those few moments were, I endured. The dentist says, “Ok, that parts all over”, and they immediately put my chair in the upright position. That was a horrible idea, and I immediately knew I was going to pass out! I now remember saying I didn’t feel good, and could they put the chair back down, but that’s the last thing I can recall.

Suddenly, I was facing two strangers in mask that were shaking me, and asking if I could breath. I had no idea where I was for nearly two minutes, while a medical team had been hooking me up to blood pressure machines, and oxygen. They said I had some sort of seizure, or something.

Never fear, though, as I was able to recover enough to get the filling done on that tooth. I’m not going to go back and do that again, are you kidding me?!

My guess is that I was most likely holding my breath, out of stress. From there, I must have had a full on anxiety attack that shut everything down, briefly. My panic attacks normally don’t come on that fast, and without any warning. I didn’t even have time to employ any form of calming exercise. It didn’t help that they sat my chair upright, much faster than they probably should have done.

So, I’d like to say long story short, here, but that obviously wasn’t a short story, at all. And, while I’m back home with a fully filled tooth, I still don’t feel right. It’s noon and my mouth is still partially numb. I didn’t get much of any writing done, aside from telling my tragic tale of toothy woe. To any who stayed long enough to read through, til the end, I thank you.

I would be ever so grateful for virtual hugs, cookies, and comments like “that’s awful”, “you poor thing”, and some sprinklings of “how brave you were, Wiwohka”.

While you do that, I will go make some oatmeal. I think I can eat it without biting my own tongue, or worse, my lip.

Less is more…

WiwohkaLeave a comment
Daily writing prompt
What are the biggest benefits of minimalist living?
View all responses

There’s something interesting about that old adage. The three words, themselves, offer the full answer to the prompt, without needing much more information, don’t you think.

One can take a wordy explanation about how to enjoy much more of your life without amassing a garage full of material things… and simply say, less is more.

Don’t get me wrong, here. I, too, once had a garage full of toys, gadgets, and more. It wasn’t like those things just sat, collecting dust. We used them, therefore, we assumed they were necessary wants, not just want wants. It’s easy to justify having more than we actually need. And, it’s not always a bad thing. The reality sets in when the things we put our hopes in, fall away from our grasp.

There was a time when we had plenty, and then suddenly, it was gone… all of it!

How you survive and overcome great loss is what makes you who you are. It will define your character, for the better… or possibly not, depending on how much you valued all that was lost.

What I discovered during our time living in that old R.V., and into our homeless bit, was the art of finding solutions, the act of letting go, and the gift of gratitude!

We live quite modestly, now, compared to before. To some, it may seem impoverished, but quite probably it’s more comfortable than many others will ever experience. We don’t have much, but what we do have is cared for, and never taken for granted. And if we lose it, we replace it, or simply make do without it.

While I could easily come up with a list of things I could use, as anyone might do, I won’t. Why? Because living with minimal things has now become an actual way of life, at least in my mind. I can’t speak for my husband, of course.

The way I see it, having less means there’s more space in my head, my house, and my heart. There’s a sense of freedom in not being tethered to a large amount of materials that are all crying out to be used, repaired, and/or stored somewhere.

When we have to move, we move fast and light. When we exist in small and limited spaces, it’s comfortable and not overcrowded.

And, more importantly, my heart now seeks other treasures and beautiful things. You just might not see what I see. Our home may be empty of many material things, but it’s never truly empty. Instead, it’s full of love, laughter, light, and shared dreams. Dreams that are still yet to come true.

Plus, since there’s so much room in my kitchen, I’ve plenty of space for baking all these cookies…

Monday Messages…

Wiwohka8 Comments

I want to do things a little differently this morning. I know that we normally pick strange words in the English language, just to learn and understand more about properly reading and writing. But sometimes, life takes us in directions we didn’t see coming. I guess that’s where my mind is, just now.

Don’t get me wrong, I still want to become a famous writer, and all. That’s a dream that will never stop growing, a passion that will never diminish!

What I’m trying to say is that I feel like maybe it would be kind of fun to be a part of something bigger, and much more important.

Wiwohka’s grandbaby will now be with us three days a week, which means that everything is changing around the barnyard. Routines are all going to be different, which won’t allow us to write as much as we normally do. I want to help with the baby, more than I feel like writing, lately. Is that wrong?

I mean, she’s not MY baby, but still. She’s just adorable, and I smile so much when I see her that my cheeks hurt. I’m sure that Wiwohka will need my help, but I don’t really know that much about babies. I was thinking that perhaps I can still practice my reading and writing skills, while still being of use to Wiwohka, and little Maisie.

What if we use Monday Messages to look up different things about babies, and all that goes into caring for them? This will help me learn all about babies, and at the same time, I can practice my spelling and proper word usage. While I doubt this will be anything new for you, it will aid me. What good is an ant that doesn’t know anything, right?!

I do know that babies sleep a lot, eat a lot, and poop a lot. But, aside from that, I’m just certain that there is more to be learned about a baby. So, just to prove this to myself, I shall be embarking on an educational journey through the forests of baby lore. How did they do it way back then? What changes were for the better, and what ones were not so helpful? What things have remained the same, since the beginning?

You see, there are a number of things to study and write about, when it comes to babies. I thought it might be fun to write about Wiwohka’s and Maisie’s journey together, and document all the changes along the way. Plus, if Wiwohka’s daughter reads anything about it, maybe she won’t be so unhappy about going back to work. They visited the other day, and I could tell that she was sad about it. But, our place is just down the road from her work, so she’s not far away. I still feel bad for her, though.

Anyway, I hope you don’t mind me using Monday Messages to learn more about babies. It won’t last forever, as I’ve heard that babies tend to grow very fast. Before you know it, we’ll be back to our regular writings.

To ride like the wind…

Wiwohka1 Comment
Daily writing prompt
What’s a thing you were completely obsessed with as a kid?
View all responses

Obsession was hardly the word for it! More like consumed, I think. For this little girl, anything to do with horses was where all the fun existed.

I was born and raised on a farm in Oregon, and was surrounded by all manner of farm animals from dawn til dusk. My mamma had me on horseback when I was still in diapers. Our family were avid hunters, so we were most often trail blazing up into some mountain range, or another, in search of good hunting grounds. Since it was easy to lose little ones in the middle of the woods, we were assigned to horseback for the majority of the trail passages. It was just what we did back then, as far as I remember.

When at school, my best friend and I would use our jump ropes and pretend to ride horses around the playground, during recess and lunchtime.

I watched every John Wayne Western, with rapt attention, as well as every other western movie or television show. The original Black Beauty movie was my go-to, along with any other show that featured horses.

My first horse was a paint pony that we named Candy, and I loved her like she was the only horse on the planet! We couldn’t afford a saddle for her, so I rode bareback all the time. It wasn’t a problem since she was as round as a bouncy ball. She was also not very tall at all, so when she bucked me off, it wasn’t far to fall.

Our farm boasted about 250 acres of cattle pasture, so my favorite Saturday activity was to ride the range, as they called it. The fence-line actually had several ranch hand shacks out along the back of our land, which I loved to visit. If I fell off my pony, I could just walk her up to the fence, and then climb back up that way.

My mother would pack us lunches, and my brother and I would take our horses and chase each other around the fields. The best part was pretending to shoot each other and falling off into the large piles of drying hay that lay randomly about the pasture. Those were the days.

My love of horses didn’t end there, though. Eventually, after years of riding whenever I got the chance, I landed a job as a ranch hand/babysitter for a friend of the family. I lived in a renovated tack room, out in the horse stables. I learned how to ride properly, both in Western and English style, as well as all the rest that went into training, breeding, and complete equine husbandry.

From the stables of a horse ranch, to the mountainous meadows of an all girls Christian Horse Camp, if horses were involved… I was all in!

As the years passed, and children arrived, my time was no longer my own. Though I wasn’t able to pursue more horsemanship type careers, I did raise my girls up in the same fashion that my mom did for my childhood. My girls were on horseback from diapers on, and we frequently enjoyed camping, fishing, and hiking with horses. We even spent three summers at a dude ranch in Idaho, riding horses all over the Sawtooth Mountain Range.

It’s been at least 15 years since I sat in the saddle, unless you want to count the numerous hours of computer games that require you to ride a mount. Age, and arthritis, finally caught up with this girl from the farm. My knees, my back, and my neck, have all paid the price of happiness.

While I might not be able to ride horses any more, it has never lessened my love and passion for the beautiful creatures.

Cookie?

I don’t have to wish…

Wiwohka3 Comments
Daily writing prompt
What super power do you wish you had and why?
View all responses

Happily, I can say that I already have a super power, so this prompt would be more aptly written as, “What super power are you glad you have and why?”

While I could play a game of riddles with you, in order to assist in your discovering what my answer might be, I won’t. To save time, I’ll make things easy for you.

My super power is Invisibility!

I can vanish from before your eyes, only to reappear at a later time, and place. Yes, it’s true! I’ve been doing it now for a number of years. Some might think that if one always fades away into the shadows, their life would simply be a lonely place of existence. But, surprise… it’s not lonely, at all. Well, not all the time, anyway.

When I get to feeling a bit on the lonely side I’ll surface for a bit, but only that.

When one reappears to those in their environment, that’s when the drama arrives. The gossip, the strife, and everyone climbing over one another, just to get ahead.

I know it may seem selfish of me, not to be visible, and all. But if I’m out of sight, then that means I’m also out of mind. As nobody ever came looking for me, while I was in my invisible form, it became apparent that I hadn’t really been missed very badly.

Oh, don’t feel badly on my behalf. Being invisible has it’s perks! You can go places, and do things without anyone taking notice. I can spend hours reading the bible, crafting, working on puzzles, watching documentaries, playing video games, and things of that nature. But, what I love the most about my times of invisibility, would be the hours of imaginative writing. It doesn’t even matter if none of you ever read it. I was there, and I wrote it all down as the adventure unfolded.

Perhaps one day, long after I’ve faded away, someone will find the things I wrote down. Maybe it will be something beautiful, or maybe not. I guess it depends on whose eyes were able to see the words written on the pages.

Before I ghost you again, you should probably grab some cookies…

Photo by ROMAN ODINTSOV on Pexels.com

What if I can’t choose?

Wiwohka2 Comments
Daily writing prompt
What’s a moment you wish you could freeze and live in forever?
View all responses

Personally, I think this prompt is too difficult. Perhaps if there were only a single moment in time that were noteworthy in my life, but there have been many. Far too many, in fact, for me to successfully pick the right moment that should be frozen forever.

Why, the birth of my children has already created a conundrum, as I’ve three daughters. How on earth am I supposed to choose between them? Time would be frozen, remember, so if I chose one over the other, I’d lose a life’s worth of memories for the other two that I didn’t pick.

What about my wedding day? What about that moment? Again, if I choose my wedding day, it would again erase my chance at memories being made with all three of my girls.

While I’d love to freeze the moment I finished reading one of my favorite novels, with the combination of all the emotions being experienced at that final page… there are waaaay too many books that accomplished such a moment!

First big successes, or even first adventures… or what about our most amazing vacation moment? The problem with freezing any of the moments we may or may not pick, is that it’s permanent. No going back, and no going forward. How very limiting, I think.

For this reason, I am unable to pick only a single moment to dwell in forever. The problem with having anything wonderful is, eventually, we want more. The new becomes old, the exciting becomes rather mundane, and boring. It sounds harsh, but it’s the truth.

While I won’t pick a moment, I will pick today. While I don’t know what’s to come, I’ll walk the path, none the less. No matter the joy, or the pain, I will make my way to tomorrow, and leave today behind.

I, just as you, are travelers. We were never meant to stand still. If we did, time would simply wave as it passed us by.

Enjoy a cookie…

Tomorrows may be even better, or perhaps not. It’s a chance you’ll have to take, my friends.

Live Novel Friday…

Wiwohka7 Comments

The Wharf…

Episode V

Keeping the baby in her room that first night wasn’t all that difficult, as the tiny creatures satisfied himself with snuggling into Maiyah’s favorite pillow, and sleeping the night away. Most likely, the little creature hadn’t slept much while hiding in the fish shed. She assumed he’d been there for at least two or three days, before she was able to lure him out from behind the old fish barrel.

Once they’d safely made it to her room, he simply crawled up onto her bed and fell fast asleep. It was a good thing that he was so tired. Maiyah had a days’ worth of choring to catch up on, before anyone were the wiser.

Quickly clearing the dishes from the tables, she set about getting them washed, dried and put away before Ollie made his way down from his room. The orc ran the tavern into the wee hours of the morning, so he rarely woke before the noon hour. This gave her time to catch up on the dishes that waited for her, within the kitchen.

Once the dishes were clean, Maiyah slipped up the tavern’s back stairs to check on the little one. Opening her bedroom door, she was appalled at the scene awaiting her arrival…

The tiny little monster had somehow chewed through one of her bedposts, made a mess of all her clothing, and was happily gnawing on one of her shoes. Apparently, the baby was teething something fierce!

There was nothing she could do about the mess til her shift ended, so Maiyah retrieved the broken wood, but left the baby happily chewing on her favorite boot. Perhaps Ollie would replace her ruined things, once she handed him the baby. One could always hope for the orc to have an understanding nature, though she had her doubts.

That day would not be one to approach the orc, as she’d seen what a mess had befallen the tavern on the previous night. Ollie was forced to break up numerous brawls, and finally had to close the tavern, just to clear out the drunken offenders and mop up all the spilled ale. It had been a costly night for the orc…

Ollie went to bed very angry, if all the mess and broken furnishings weren’t enough evidence.

Maiyah would have to wait at least another day, or two. It usually took the orc time to regain his composure after losing his temper. She would manage the little boot chewer a bit longer, for Ollie’s sake.

Returning to her chores, Maiyah made one last sweep of the kitchen and dining area, before Ollie came down. Assured that nothing was amiss, she headed out behind the tavern to finish the days washing…

With laundry washed, and hung out to dry, Maiyah made her way inside to help serve the lunch crowd that were already filling the tavern’s tables. Once the customers began exiting, she quickly cleared their plates, making sure to stuff any leftover food into her apron. It was less likely that anyone would notice food disappearing, this way. She could simply pick up a few edible bits from off the plates she cleared, here and there. The scraps would have otherwise been thrown out, anyway.

When she returned to her room that afternoon, she cleaned up the mess made by the baby and repaired her half eaten bed post. The baby sat on the floor, happily eating the food she’d managed to pilfer from the dining room. Once full, the baby began to yawn, and then settled down into a pile of clothing in the corner of the room…

Watching the baby drift of to sleep, softly murmuring to himself, Maiyah considered what her options were. Though he was adorable and sweet, she would run herself ragged if she were to try keeping him hidden in her room, much longer. She was only one person, and it wouldn’t do to simply let the baby crawl around her room, unattended, for all the hours of the day, while she was working. She would give it one more day.

One more day came, and then went. Yet another fight broke out that night, just as the night before…

And, again, Ollie had to break up the fight. Once more, the tavern had to be closed, repaired, and mopped up.

And, another day came and went…

Maiyah was beginning to think that there was never going to be a favorable moment to tell Ollie about his son…

It had been a full week of drunken brawls, broken tables, and shattered kegs of valuable ale. To live upon the wharf, one had to be accustomed to violence and chaos, nearly every day. It hadn’t been Maiyah’s choice to work in a tavern, but it had been Ollie’s choice in the owning and running of said establishment. The orc would have to be given the letter soon, along with handing over Brugo, the grumpy orc’s own responsibility.

Knowing it was time to reveal the baby was one thing, but knowing how to do it was another thing, all together. Maiyah couldn’t just slap the letter on the bar and fling the baby at Ollie. If she wanted to do the right thing, and keep her job, diplomacy was definitely in order.

Should she give Ollie the baby first, or the letter?

What’s in the letter, aside from telling Ollie that the baby is his?

And, where is Brugo’s mother?

Thursday Thoughts…

Wiwohka7 Comments

Part of me wants to complain, and the other part of me really wants to poke fun at WordPress. Honestly, I don’t think they’ve any concern over what goes on within their own company. That is, unless we count all the business accounts that spam the feed.

Reality has been surfacing over this last year, as to how little WordPress cares for any account that doesn’t produce the money. I’ve watched countless ads surfacing across Facebook, and the like, touting how great WordPress is for business accounts.

The tide is changing for bloggers, with AI becoming the new typing assistant for many writers. It’s discouraging, to say the least.

Site after site has begun seeking prompts from other venues, just to submit posts out on the feed. Doesn’t it make more sense to just move to that venue, if the prompts are better. Why are we giving WordPress any time at all, if we have to leave the platform in order to find a good prompt?

How many years in a row do I have to tell my readers which holidays are my favorite? Did they suddenly change from last year? Am I that fickle?

I have the strong urge to throat punch whomever it was that invented the job title of Happiness Engineer. Where are they? And, what is it, exactly, that they actually do? For the last two weeks, I can’t even comment on half of my subscribers sites, even though I am a fellow subscriber. I see numerous other sites writing about their struggle with technical issues that seem to never get resolved.

My renewal deadline is coming up in the next two weeks, and I’m letting it go delinquent. I’ve had that little button added to my site for the last two months, but as I don’t have any monetary sites that follow mine, there hasn’t been any gift subscriptions arriving. It’s probably for the better, as I’m not sure the cost pays for anything other than extra photo storage. I know my illustration work will suffer for it, but it is what it is.

While I’ve written numerous pieces of literary works, in an attempt at being a part of something wonderful, it seems to have become nothing more than myself doing all the heavy lifting. Comments are virtually becoming like that of a ghost town, with only a few tumble weeds of words drifting down a dusty street.

For this reason, I pulled my first full length novel off the feed over a year ago, finishing it privately. I do much of my real writing offline now, and plan to begin my own publishing journey within the next few months. It wasn’t that only few read along with me, but even fewer took the time to comment, or answer my questions.

Over time, it has become more of me out there liking and commenting on some of the nearly 1700 subscribers that follow my site. The comparative numbers are staggering! While I spend nearly two hours a day reading and commenting on a minimum of nearly sixty active accounts, my numbers usually never exceed sixty to eighty total visits, and or likes. The comments section hasn’t been working, lately, but I think that is the fault of our HappyMess EngiSneers.

Though I have no intention of leaving the platform, my writing choices are changing, and I’m choosing to pursue only those accounts that I know are active members, and dear friends. If you hadn’t picked up on it yet, I no longer have the energy to devote to a project that get’s 5 views and no comments! Barnyard Business will be moving to a new venue, and any publishing work will also be held private.

The trend for free this and free that, has turned the value of words into Bantha Fodder!

** According to Google, Bantha fodder” is a Star Wars phrase referring to the food eaten by banthas, often used as a synonym for nonsense, lies, or worthless material, similar to “@#*$&%@* or “bull crap”. It is commonly associated with the Huttese phrase “bantha poodoo” (bantha fodder) used by characters like Jabba the Hutt to mean something foul or low-quality. **

While I have never sought to become wealthy, I do have to make a living. If something is worth having, it’s worth paying for, and I believe that there is value within the pages of my work. I could say that I’m sorry for not sharing my dreams with you, but no apology will be forthcoming.

We now live in a day and age where anything you put out on the internet is subject to being stolen by ai bots, or plagiarized by someone without the skill to write anything of value by their own hand.

Google’s AI overview,

Plagiarize means to steal and pass off another person’s ideas, words, or creative work as your own without proper attribution. It is a serious form of academic and professional dishonesty, often called “literary theft”. Penalties include failing assignments, suspension, or expulsion, while legal implications can include lawsuits for copyright infringement. [1, 2, 3, 4, 5]

Types of Plagiarism

  • Verbatim: Copying text word-for-word without quotation marks or credit.
  • Mosaic/Patchwork: Taking phrases from various sources and patching them together.
  • Paraphrasing: Improperly changing a few words while keeping the original structure.
  • Self-Plagiarism: Submitting your own previous work without permission or citation. [1, 2, 3]

I don’t know where things will lead me, though I have every confidence that it will be beautiful. If you desire to continue on this journey with me, I welcome you, as I always have.

If we’re to hold to the very fiber that makes us the writers that we claim to be, we need to stand beside one another, and take back all that which is being systematically stolen from under our very online noses. Avoid sites that are clearly spamming the platform, pursue other bloggers who write free form, and not chatgpt, or one of the other ai writing assistant programs.

If you want to write, learn how to do it like the rest of us… good ole blood, sweat, and often times, many tears. Don’t let ignorance be your excuse for utilizing a computer program to do your work for you. Are we to stand back in complacency, as your libraries become clogged with nothing more than pre-programmed algorithms.

I want to move against the tide, and forge a path straight into the heart of the worlds literary sea.

Join with me in becoming the keepers of true literary treasures; handwritten history, truly inspired poetry, courageous adventures, and tales of ancient hero’s and heroines.

I truly believe that these artificial computer programs will never be able to capture hearts, like the stories of old… the ones truly dreamt about, before the ink ever stained the paper they were written upon. Help me prove it!