For three years and counting, I put myself on what Clay Johnson coins as an information diet. I bought his book bearing the namesake a few months after it came out, but I let it collect pixelated dust between my day-job with the community college wilderness years coming to a close. Then, what got me thinking about this whole info-cutting business?
Before then, I was obsessed with world news from the BBC to Al Jazeera English and NHK World. That and in 2010 I gave US national media a shot through the Huffington Post's media section with all the he-said she-said soundbites. That last experience was rather unnerving courtesy of my first introduction to the craft through shortwave broadcasts of NHK World that turned into visiting the BBC website daily. From teen to early young-adult, I was naive about journalism and what the Internet could do.
Fast-forward to February 2012 where a friend of mine reminded me about national media and how they covered politics. I read through Dan Gillmor's Mediactive months prior which got me thinking about managing my own news consumption. That and considering additional sources beyond the established press. More on that in a few.
Clay Johnson's The Information Diet reminded of Gillmor's book regarding how one can organize through information both sensational and informative alongside other techniques. Whereas Gillmor calls for the user to not only embrace active media consumption, but to also maintain an internet presence, Johnson focuses more on the former noticing the smaller details including filter failure and brand loyalty along how to make one's information diet work effectively though mastering consumption techniques that allude to nutrition, personal fitness, and psychological experiments.
I already utilize some of the methods in my own diet, even before I read Johnson's book combined with Gillmor's suggestions. When it comes to recognized media outlets, I use both local and international sources alongside non-profit organizations including ProPublica, Global Voices, and the Sunlight Foundation without the need to tune into the cable news landscape. Excluding social media feeds, I bookmarked seven international sources along with my region's local paper, and three alternative publications to distill and figure out the stories I find interesting and ultimately newsworthy.
Which leads me back to the additional sources idea, going beyond the non-profits I previously mentioned. One of my favorite parts in Mediactive is when Dan Gillmor asks readers, "What is journalism?" This question, and the chapter in question shows how the idea evolves to include citizen journalists, bloggers, and organizations which he says perform "journalistic acts". I seriously recommend going through that hyperlink, but long story short, the idea encompasses the mentioned organizations and more. Personally this includes blogs such as Boing Boing, Popehat, Feeling Listless, and other sites on my blogroll that are part-humor and part-opinion, but also link to articles elsewhere.
That, and instead of just going through my bookmarks and scrolling my news feeds, I make it a habit to go through my Feedly where I can subscribe to feeds relevant to my interests a la the now-defunct Google Reader.
I could go on, but I'll just say that any exposure to political partisan material I limit to Jacobin Magazine and any of the mentioned publications or blogs. Because of this ongoing diet, I have a more optimistic and somewhat detached view on current events. In other words, I combined Johnson's advice with Gillmor's suggestion towards a "slower news culture" which I also suggest going through. All this information consumption takes place within an hour to two based on whether or not I'm working or writing. Sometimes, I bookmark an article for later reading. Sometimes, not.
So would I recommend reading through Clay Johnson's Information Diet? I say yes, but also read through Mediactive to get a bigger picture of the evolving media landscape to keep the data-consuming regiment fresh.
Disclosure: I wrote a review on Mediactive for the student-run publication, Campus Lantern, back in 2012.
08 March, 2015
23 February, 2015
Housekeeping Part II
After working on last week's piece under the wire, I decided to make yet another change to the itinerary. I'll be doing a monthly flash fiction piece instead of a bi-weekly one, except on the months when I'll post short stories to Wattpad.
Speaking of, I created a mini-catalog grouping flash fiction works with the same characters, themes, and those which don't need any additional backstory. This is only a mere sneak peak as to what the Wattpad stories will be about since going through the labeling process turned up what else I might conjure up. So what are they?
I added two new outlets to my bio's "on the web" section--Boing Boing's BBS and the Internet Archive (which for now is just the bookmarks list)--which wraps up this edition of housekeeping. With it still being Thursday on my end, I'll throw it back to the first Kermodian Rant that got me hooked on one of my favorite podcasts to this day. Enjoy!
Speaking of, I created a mini-catalog grouping flash fiction works with the same characters, themes, and those which don't need any additional backstory. This is only a mere sneak peak as to what the Wattpad stories will be about since going through the labeling process turned up what else I might conjure up. So what are they?
- Mini-Sketches: Inspired by Ben Lloyd's London and Paris Sketches over on Ello, I thought about doing some of my own. While "Simplicity" counts as a mini-sketch, the newer entries will be longer, providing a window into the passersby in a small harbor town, possibly elsewhere. I have yet to set a schedule regarding when I'll post one, but I plan on cross-posting it on here, Ello, and Wattpad.
- Memoir-in-Brief: While I was at university, I took a creative nonfiction class where, after work-shopping several memoirs, I thought I could take it on even as a twenty-something. I mulled it over and, especially with the subject I wanted to write about, thought it would make better fiction. Goes without saying that the more interesting moments haven't happened yet. Like the sketches there's also no set schedule for when I'll write one, but I'll cross-post to the same channels.
I added two new outlets to my bio's "on the web" section--Boing Boing's BBS and the Internet Archive (which for now is just the bookmarks list)--which wraps up this edition of housekeeping. With it still being Thursday on my end, I'll throw it back to the first Kermodian Rant that got me hooked on one of my favorite podcasts to this day. Enjoy!
21 February, 2015
February 21-22 Weekend Links
I noted in my itinerary about other blog postings and with that, here's the first edition of the weekend links. There's no real format, but I'll usually skim through my own Twitter to see what content I found interesting or topical enough to re-tweet, or I go through my Feedly and bookmark similar reads.
Here's this week's links of interest...
Starting with today as International Open Data Day where people worldwide organize public data and create programs using said data to promote the idea to governments worldwide. The link shows ongoing hackathons and explains what one can do to promote the cause. Examples of organizations which help it include the Sunlight Foundation which promotes government transparency in the US.
Early in the week, Mark Drey wrote an article for Boing Boing about the class insecurities brought up in NBC's Hannibal. I just realized that this is an adaptation of Thomas Harris's book series and now I want to read it!
I also found what is now one of my favorite games in the Internet Archive's MS-DOS collection aside from the Oregon Trail and Crosscountry Canada which localization specialist Clyde Mandelin streamed online last year. That game is called Amnesia; a text adventure where the player has the game's namesake from onset and it plays around with the well-known cliche to mesh it into the narrative.
As for more topical stuff...
I mentioned on Ello last week that I was going to jump on the 50 Shades rant train, but thought better of it because romance and erotica aren't my thing unless it's Christine Sneed's work. There are some really good articles and critiques out there about 50 Shades, starting with Jenny Trout's reading (link goes to the first chapter) along with her review of the movie. Speaking of films, Mark Kermode reviewed it for the Observer and Roxanne Gay wrote a piece on it for the Toast. Then, there's also some clever copywriting from B&Q spotted by Ben Lloyd and two articles about the whole thing being capitalist erotica for lack of a better phrase from the Guardian's Hadley Freeman and Buzzfeed's Anne Helen Peterson.
Here's this week's links of interest...
Starting with today as International Open Data Day where people worldwide organize public data and create programs using said data to promote the idea to governments worldwide. The link shows ongoing hackathons and explains what one can do to promote the cause. Examples of organizations which help it include the Sunlight Foundation which promotes government transparency in the US.
Early in the week, Mark Drey wrote an article for Boing Boing about the class insecurities brought up in NBC's Hannibal. I just realized that this is an adaptation of Thomas Harris's book series and now I want to read it!
I also found what is now one of my favorite games in the Internet Archive's MS-DOS collection aside from the Oregon Trail and Crosscountry Canada which localization specialist Clyde Mandelin streamed online last year. That game is called Amnesia; a text adventure where the player has the game's namesake from onset and it plays around with the well-known cliche to mesh it into the narrative.
As for more topical stuff...
I mentioned on Ello last week that I was going to jump on the 50 Shades rant train, but thought better of it because romance and erotica aren't my thing unless it's Christine Sneed's work. There are some really good articles and critiques out there about 50 Shades, starting with Jenny Trout's reading (link goes to the first chapter) along with her review of the movie. Speaking of films, Mark Kermode reviewed it for the Observer and Roxanne Gay wrote a piece on it for the Toast. Then, there's also some clever copywriting from B&Q spotted by Ben Lloyd and two articles about the whole thing being capitalist erotica for lack of a better phrase from the Guardian's Hadley Freeman and Buzzfeed's Anne Helen Peterson.
15 February, 2015
Flash Fiction: Final Lap
After long bouts of procrastination and work commitments, I finally finished up this week's flash fiction piece--initially prompted by me looking back at some of my older and messier works on here. I decided to revisit one of those characters (Russell) for a special, somewhat Valentine's Day-ish story. Enjoy!
The waiter placed a plate of scrambled eggs, sausage, and home-fries in front of Russell. He sniffed the streaming vapors, grabbed his fork, and went to work. There was no time to waste. He had a gig and he would be there. Once he arrived, he would get his notepad out and scribble from “hello” straight to the end, writing out the legend of a local rally car champion for his fellow motor-heads. Russell saw himself becoming more than a hero, but a figurehead amongst car mechanics. He saw the royalties, the fans surrounding his garage, the invites to auto shows across the world, the—
Russell heard a clink. He sat up from his plate and saw Warren holding his fork towards his glass. He sighed, “Aren’t you forgetting someone?”
“Me?” Russell moved the remaining sausage links into a cluster, “Nah!”
“Russ, I’m serious,” Warren rolled his eyes.
“Dude,” Russell bit off a link, swallowing the piece whole, “With a job like mine, I wait for no one.”
Russell tried to stab the stack again, but poked the placemat instead. He gazed at Warren gripping the plate with his fingers. Russell tried to pull it back, but Warren’s grasp did not break. He did not even flinch, even when Russell leaned towards him.
“Look,” Warren said, “You either wait for her or we leave you here. Your choice.”
Russell leaned back into his chair and shrugged, “Okay. Fine. You win this round.”
“Uh, no,” Warren slid the plate back, “I’m pretty sure I won the whole thing. Thank you very much.”
“But this is just the pit stop,” Russell placed the fork on the plate, “The final lap’s all mine, my friend.”
Warren groaned, “I’m only doing this because you fixed my car.”
Of course, Russell thought, he did not need Warren’s little Prius when something else from the garage could make the drive. Maybe that Volvo P1800 that he won from the auction. Possibly the Mitsubishi Lancer GT with the back doors missing. All they needed was a quick tune-up, some emissions tests, some parts, and Russell would make a bullet line towards his destination.
That was also the problem. Unlike his beloved Millenia, he stashed his two latest wheels in the garden shed out back. He had too many cars to fix ever since he started his mechanic shop. The time he wanted to spend ordering the brakes and engine parts for the Volvo he spent looking for shock absorbers and tires.
Then, there was Dana, who took the Millenia out for a road trip just to test out the new four-wheel drive and cloaking system. This left Russell without any chauffeurs made of steering wheels, engines, and fuel. Here he was with Warren who offered him a ride up to the dream come true, the begin-all-continue-all, that now turned out to be a continuous drag across the interstate. There were only so many country songs Russell could bear before he decided to go rouge and hitchhike.
It was then that Warren’s girlfriend, Josie, finally turned up at the table, grinning. Russell grabbed his fork, ready to slice the hash browns further. She pulled out a chair and plopped in next to Warren, “They just called!”
“And?” Warren perked up, “And?”
“I’m in! The main star! Me!”
Warren whooped and hugged her, saying how happy he was with a, “So proud! So proud!” Russell sighed and continued to eat. This would all be over. There would be the paycheck, which he promised to pay in full, then on with the ride. Instead, he heard Warren and Joise drone on about all the plays they watched together, the movies they binged through on Netflix for their one-year anniversary, their first date at her senior prom, and so on. Russell finished off the last of the scrambled eggs, leaving him with clean plate. This also left him with the constant smile and nod routine which he got used to during while stuck in a traffic jam with them.
Russell got up, “Be right back, guys.”
He went outside and looked at their car—a small, blue Corvette. He was so close to a chance to meet one of his legends wasted on a stop at some run-down diner. Russell sighed and hung his head low. It was over. He would be stranded, not in the parking lot, but at the theatre listening to a soliloquy. Actually, that would not be so bad. He could make Warren owe him yet another favor. If the play captivated him, Russell would give him a discount, but that was it.
Russell decided that would be the worst-case scenario and sent a message to his rallying inspiration about the slight delay. This was not a race to the finish, but an endurance run and Russell planned to last the longest out there.
The waiter placed a plate of scrambled eggs, sausage, and home-fries in front of Russell. He sniffed the streaming vapors, grabbed his fork, and went to work. There was no time to waste. He had a gig and he would be there. Once he arrived, he would get his notepad out and scribble from “hello” straight to the end, writing out the legend of a local rally car champion for his fellow motor-heads. Russell saw himself becoming more than a hero, but a figurehead amongst car mechanics. He saw the royalties, the fans surrounding his garage, the invites to auto shows across the world, the—
Russell heard a clink. He sat up from his plate and saw Warren holding his fork towards his glass. He sighed, “Aren’t you forgetting someone?”
“Me?” Russell moved the remaining sausage links into a cluster, “Nah!”
“Russ, I’m serious,” Warren rolled his eyes.
“Dude,” Russell bit off a link, swallowing the piece whole, “With a job like mine, I wait for no one.”
Russell tried to stab the stack again, but poked the placemat instead. He gazed at Warren gripping the plate with his fingers. Russell tried to pull it back, but Warren’s grasp did not break. He did not even flinch, even when Russell leaned towards him.
“Look,” Warren said, “You either wait for her or we leave you here. Your choice.”
Russell leaned back into his chair and shrugged, “Okay. Fine. You win this round.”
“Uh, no,” Warren slid the plate back, “I’m pretty sure I won the whole thing. Thank you very much.”
“But this is just the pit stop,” Russell placed the fork on the plate, “The final lap’s all mine, my friend.”
Warren groaned, “I’m only doing this because you fixed my car.”
Of course, Russell thought, he did not need Warren’s little Prius when something else from the garage could make the drive. Maybe that Volvo P1800 that he won from the auction. Possibly the Mitsubishi Lancer GT with the back doors missing. All they needed was a quick tune-up, some emissions tests, some parts, and Russell would make a bullet line towards his destination.
That was also the problem. Unlike his beloved Millenia, he stashed his two latest wheels in the garden shed out back. He had too many cars to fix ever since he started his mechanic shop. The time he wanted to spend ordering the brakes and engine parts for the Volvo he spent looking for shock absorbers and tires.
Then, there was Dana, who took the Millenia out for a road trip just to test out the new four-wheel drive and cloaking system. This left Russell without any chauffeurs made of steering wheels, engines, and fuel. Here he was with Warren who offered him a ride up to the dream come true, the begin-all-continue-all, that now turned out to be a continuous drag across the interstate. There were only so many country songs Russell could bear before he decided to go rouge and hitchhike.
It was then that Warren’s girlfriend, Josie, finally turned up at the table, grinning. Russell grabbed his fork, ready to slice the hash browns further. She pulled out a chair and plopped in next to Warren, “They just called!”
“And?” Warren perked up, “And?”
“I’m in! The main star! Me!”
Warren whooped and hugged her, saying how happy he was with a, “So proud! So proud!” Russell sighed and continued to eat. This would all be over. There would be the paycheck, which he promised to pay in full, then on with the ride. Instead, he heard Warren and Joise drone on about all the plays they watched together, the movies they binged through on Netflix for their one-year anniversary, their first date at her senior prom, and so on. Russell finished off the last of the scrambled eggs, leaving him with clean plate. This also left him with the constant smile and nod routine which he got used to during while stuck in a traffic jam with them.
Russell got up, “Be right back, guys.”
He went outside and looked at their car—a small, blue Corvette. He was so close to a chance to meet one of his legends wasted on a stop at some run-down diner. Russell sighed and hung his head low. It was over. He would be stranded, not in the parking lot, but at the theatre listening to a soliloquy. Actually, that would not be so bad. He could make Warren owe him yet another favor. If the play captivated him, Russell would give him a discount, but that was it.
Russell decided that would be the worst-case scenario and sent a message to his rallying inspiration about the slight delay. This was not a race to the finish, but an endurance run and Russell planned to last the longest out there.
30 January, 2015
Flash Fiction: White Sheet
After I wrote the housekeeping post, I set up my writing itinerary on the fly, first spewed out on Twitter but organized on Ello. This week's flash fiction was prompted by the blizzard that swept through New England. Enjoy!
Peter moved the curtains aside, watching the snow fall down as he tied up each side. He could only see the trees and headlines that lined up his street. The white stuff covered everything else. This was not how he wanted the day to go. He resented being cooped up in his apartment where his roommates left him with a sink covered in dishes—some of them covered with yesterday’s spaghetti breakfast—and dish rags with a scent that reminded Peter of his high school’s locker room.
If only he could escape this cage, run through the streets and hide in the nearby café with the small booth in the corner. No. They would spot him if someone else called the seat home. Maybe that small house on the outskirts with the bronze statue of three men leaning on vintage Alfa Romeo. The owner was generous enough to let him stay out in the den when Peter first arrived while he looked for apartments downtown. That would work. They never went up there anyway, even when they recover from their hangovers. Peter thought he could hike back home from that place.
But not today. The snow continued to fall faster in one diagonal white sheet. Peter could barely see the nearby condos. He went to the kitchen and started to place the dishes in the dishwasher. Then, he tossed the rags in the trash and tied it up. The smell ran away with it. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad. After all, they were out at a music festival for the weekend. Peter switched on the television to a local news bulletin that quickly switched over to a daytime soap. He changed it to a football game, then another soap, then public access, Walking Dead…
Peter switched it off and looked at his phone. Nothing. Not from Duncan back home, or even Helen who penned a dinner date with him, but for who knows when now. He considered sending a text to reschedule it, but put his phone away instead. He heard the wind howl and shrill, and headed down to the complex’s foyer.
The foyer was empty aside from Peter who decided to go through his mailbox. Most of the envelopes had last night’s timestamp, with the exception of a small postcard. The front had a picture of a bunch of fists, palms forward, with the phrase “Power to the People” underneath them and a huge U hanging from above. Peter flipped the postcard and gasped. There was today’s date in red ink with just one message beneath it, “They’ve blown your cover…run! Will rendezvous outside. That place.”
Something snapped back into Peter’s mind. Them. The reason why he came here in the first place. The Union wanted him to go undercover and investigate them. Only problem was, he did not know who they were. The Union just gave him a small fortune cookie message taped to the sole of a stiletto heel with some latitude and longitude coordinates.
Peter dropped his mail on the floor and ran towards the stairs. He jumped over the chains leading down, dashing into the basement corridor. He just bolted down the hallway, only glancing at the labels. He stopped at a door and tried to swing it open, but to no avail. Then another, and another…
He collapsed on the ground, butt first, near a corner. There was a small slit at the top of the wall—a window completely covered in snow—with a small fifty-watt bulb just below, slowly fizzing out. Peter thought he could hear footsteps, muffled from afar. Maybe outside. Then a creak nearby. Peter tried to keep his eyes open, peering where the squeak came from. He heard the footsteps come closer and closer then…nothing.
Peter moved the curtains aside, watching the snow fall down as he tied up each side. He could only see the trees and headlines that lined up his street. The white stuff covered everything else. This was not how he wanted the day to go. He resented being cooped up in his apartment where his roommates left him with a sink covered in dishes—some of them covered with yesterday’s spaghetti breakfast—and dish rags with a scent that reminded Peter of his high school’s locker room.
If only he could escape this cage, run through the streets and hide in the nearby café with the small booth in the corner. No. They would spot him if someone else called the seat home. Maybe that small house on the outskirts with the bronze statue of three men leaning on vintage Alfa Romeo. The owner was generous enough to let him stay out in the den when Peter first arrived while he looked for apartments downtown. That would work. They never went up there anyway, even when they recover from their hangovers. Peter thought he could hike back home from that place.
But not today. The snow continued to fall faster in one diagonal white sheet. Peter could barely see the nearby condos. He went to the kitchen and started to place the dishes in the dishwasher. Then, he tossed the rags in the trash and tied it up. The smell ran away with it. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad. After all, they were out at a music festival for the weekend. Peter switched on the television to a local news bulletin that quickly switched over to a daytime soap. He changed it to a football game, then another soap, then public access, Walking Dead…
Peter switched it off and looked at his phone. Nothing. Not from Duncan back home, or even Helen who penned a dinner date with him, but for who knows when now. He considered sending a text to reschedule it, but put his phone away instead. He heard the wind howl and shrill, and headed down to the complex’s foyer.
The foyer was empty aside from Peter who decided to go through his mailbox. Most of the envelopes had last night’s timestamp, with the exception of a small postcard. The front had a picture of a bunch of fists, palms forward, with the phrase “Power to the People” underneath them and a huge U hanging from above. Peter flipped the postcard and gasped. There was today’s date in red ink with just one message beneath it, “They’ve blown your cover…run! Will rendezvous outside. That place.”
Something snapped back into Peter’s mind. Them. The reason why he came here in the first place. The Union wanted him to go undercover and investigate them. Only problem was, he did not know who they were. The Union just gave him a small fortune cookie message taped to the sole of a stiletto heel with some latitude and longitude coordinates.
Peter dropped his mail on the floor and ran towards the stairs. He jumped over the chains leading down, dashing into the basement corridor. He just bolted down the hallway, only glancing at the labels. He stopped at a door and tried to swing it open, but to no avail. Then another, and another…
He collapsed on the ground, butt first, near a corner. There was a small slit at the top of the wall—a window completely covered in snow—with a small fifty-watt bulb just below, slowly fizzing out. Peter thought he could hear footsteps, muffled from afar. Maybe outside. Then a creak nearby. Peter tried to keep his eyes open, peering where the squeak came from. He heard the footsteps come closer and closer then…nothing.
19 January, 2015
Experiment Off to Co-Write
Following up from yesterday's update, I want to expand on why I decided to transfer the "Experiment in Flash Fiction" over to Co-Write. I originally started the series after I read a bit of Tim Sevenhuysen's Losing Freight* where readers could vote on what happens next after every chapter. With the Experiment, I decided to use comments to guide the project after I realized that the piece I initially worked on would pass the 1,000 word limit with the outline I had. It resulted in just a comment from one of my relatives that created what could be a stand-alone story.
Now it is. Over on Co-Write.
I briefly touched on what Co-Write is in the last post and I briefly talked about the daily tournaments--currently at 9pm GMT/4pm EST on weekdays--on Ello and Google+. However, it's not all tournaments and competition. Some of the best works just happen as users write and vote on the most interesting sentence to move the story forward. This ongoing story** is an example of what makes Co-Write stories interesting--start out simple and develop it out into something bigger, complex, with the "What's next?" question left to the users.
With that, I thought that the Experiment would make a snug fit and I already posted what was the second part into a plot summary. This one utilizes the plot-development format, based on the Snowflake Method, where users can split the summary into two separate sentences and develop the story further. How does it begin? What happens next? If you're on Co-Write, it's your call!
The Experiment continues!
*Sadly, the link to the actual story on 1889 Labs no longer works. I linked to Tim's blog that summarizes Losing Freight and its first five weeks.
**Disclosure: I helped write the first part of this story. The second part can be found here. Both utilize the sentence-by-sentence sequence format.
Now it is. Over on Co-Write.
I briefly touched on what Co-Write is in the last post and I briefly talked about the daily tournaments--currently at 9pm GMT/4pm EST on weekdays--on Ello and Google+. However, it's not all tournaments and competition. Some of the best works just happen as users write and vote on the most interesting sentence to move the story forward. This ongoing story** is an example of what makes Co-Write stories interesting--start out simple and develop it out into something bigger, complex, with the "What's next?" question left to the users.
With that, I thought that the Experiment would make a snug fit and I already posted what was the second part into a plot summary. This one utilizes the plot-development format, based on the Snowflake Method, where users can split the summary into two separate sentences and develop the story further. How does it begin? What happens next? If you're on Co-Write, it's your call!
The Experiment continues!
*Sadly, the link to the actual story on 1889 Labs no longer works. I linked to Tim's blog that summarizes Losing Freight and its first five weeks.
**Disclosure: I helped write the first part of this story. The second part can be found here. Both utilize the sentence-by-sentence sequence format.
17 January, 2015
Housekeeping
Back in October, I posted about my absence from writing flash fiction, wanting to make a comeback with them and to reacquaint myself with those communities that inspired me to further hone my craft in the first place. I'll confess that it made a good placeholder post and a note-to-self to make a more detailed recap, an actual post about where this blog will go from here on out.
With that out of the way: Hello, everyone! Apologies for the lengthy hiatus, courtesy of two years at university alongside other things. So what happened and what's new?
Graduation happened where I got my Bachelors in English and managed to fist-bump the college president. Then summer happened where I did a lot of summer reading after a good friend of mine introduced me to Goodreads.
I took part in NaNoWriMo last year to see if I could make good headway on a project I started right after I graduated. I admit that I initially cheated with 4,395 words on day one--approximately 3,200 of which I wrote before the contest began--mostly because I worried about grammatical snafus. This turned into Writer's Block as the month progressed, especially since I did not have a detailed, Point-A-to-Point-B outline. That and I thought I had to name every scene in Scrivener as opposed to just concentrating on the actually writing.
During that time, I got an invite to join Ello and another one to a website called Co-Write. I noted my progress and the lessons I learned on the former to get myself acquainted with the network that is turning out to be one of my favorites for both its principles and trends like Shelfies. I was personally invited over to the latter by its owner, @maile129 on Twitter, and I've been hooked ever since. The premise is in the name, co-writing, and it can be both creative and competitive, especially in the daily tournaments. Speaking of, here's one Malie recorded last year just to give you a taste of what Co-Write's like:
That's the recap! As for the blog, there are changes:
With that out of the way: Hello, everyone! Apologies for the lengthy hiatus, courtesy of two years at university alongside other things. So what happened and what's new?
Graduation happened where I got my Bachelors in English and managed to fist-bump the college president. Then summer happened where I did a lot of summer reading after a good friend of mine introduced me to Goodreads.
I took part in NaNoWriMo last year to see if I could make good headway on a project I started right after I graduated. I admit that I initially cheated with 4,395 words on day one--approximately 3,200 of which I wrote before the contest began--mostly because I worried about grammatical snafus. This turned into Writer's Block as the month progressed, especially since I did not have a detailed, Point-A-to-Point-B outline. That and I thought I had to name every scene in Scrivener as opposed to just concentrating on the actually writing.
During that time, I got an invite to join Ello and another one to a website called Co-Write. I noted my progress and the lessons I learned on the former to get myself acquainted with the network that is turning out to be one of my favorites for both its principles and trends like Shelfies. I was personally invited over to the latter by its owner, @maile129 on Twitter, and I've been hooked ever since. The premise is in the name, co-writing, and it can be both creative and competitive, especially in the daily tournaments. Speaking of, here's one Malie recorded last year just to give you a taste of what Co-Write's like:
That's the recap! As for the blog, there are changes:
- I changed the Creative Commons license for the blog from BY-NC-SA to BY-SA. I thought about moving some of my pieces, especially the Experiment in Flash Fiction over to Co-Write. This is more or less for consistency's sake since all works on the site are under the BY-SA license by default through the site's terms of service.
- Instead of just the regular pieces of flash fiction, I also plan on musing now and then about anything I find interesting, based on current events, etc.. I plan on cross-posting them--first to Ello, then here.
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