Monday, January 31, 2011

First Sale!

I made my first ‘sale’ as a writer, if such can be said for an article that was rather shoddily edited, and if $2.24 for an upfront payment is something to be proud of, especially when the sale is to Associated Content, which may be a Content Farm. At this rate, I would need to write 37 articles a day, 365 days a year, to make what I am making right now. That would require me to produce at minimum, 15,000 words per day, 1875 words per hour and somehow type at a clip of 31.25 words per minute. (I do well when I type 20-25). Wow. I am daunted. Officially. Of course, Associated Content pays for page views, so if I were to get thousands of people to read what I write, then I could possibly cut back to 8,000 or 10,000 words per day. Still wow. So no riches are in my future, Still, I must admit to feeling some small measure of accomplishment even if the editing was not rigorous. If I hold myself to a high standard, then perhaps my conscience will allow me tout my writing as worthwhile for others to read.

Thursday, January 27, 2011


Traction. A condition best understood in these wintry months. The house in which I live now is on a ridge and to reach the house, one must negotiate a short, but steep hill via a private road that is unpaved. I have a truck with 4wd. No problems most of the time unless I choose to tackle the hill unprepared without my 4wd engaged. When this happens, it reminds me that without momentum and traction, there is no movement and no way to negotiate to the top of the hill.

This rather bloated and obvious metaphor is applicable to my quest; I have the ability to achieve my goals, insofar as I possess the basic skills, the writing equivalent of 4wd, but if I allow myself to stop or forfeit my momentum, there is no traction and I backslide. I have to start again. Again and again, I start from the bottom. Unfortunately, unlike my truck, There is no easily identified mechanism to engage at will. My writing transmission has a tendency to slip.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Death Averted

It snowed and that is my writing excuse. I had lofty intentions, a back-to-back blog posting extravaganza. And then the snow and instead of writing, I found myself on the roof of the house shoveling and cursing and trying to find God. I felt an urge for some type of divine protection if any god protects against blatant foolishness.

I tried to push snow from the edges first, so that the ground would be higher and (I thought) softer with fluffy mounds of snow. My metal state was improved as I saw the snow banks beneath the eaves grow to three and four foot monsters. Surely if I fell, a soft embrace awaited. I would laugh, Ha!, if I were to fall. Then I could climb onto the roof again and fall on purpose.

Yeah. Finding myself sliding headfirst though, that sobered me somewhat. It was still farther than I wanted to fall. Three hours later, I found the error of my optimism. The fluffy snow? Didn't exist. No, the snowbanks were dense, near solid back breakers that barely were able to be shoveled. I might have died but at least on the way to my maker, I would had a measure of hope and optimism, so I suppose my demise would not have been a terrible experience. Except the end result, of course. Death and all, you know.

The Quest continues.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Under Duress: Because I was told to write... or else.

I suck.

I have not written or otherwise updated this blog for many days and those many days have since had babies who have grown up into lazy adult days and are currently living far away from the parent days who call but usually only get voicemail and the lazy adult days just pretend that their cell phones are too complicated to use and so they can't use the voicemail function and never return calls to the frustrated parent days. It is a mess.

And I suck.

I have begun writing for Yahoo, but that does not mitigate matters or in any way release me from my duties on fiftybookquest. I have been corrected, admonished and am currently in recovery. I hope to progress through the steps and emerge a better, more responsible person at the end, a person who will never fall back into slackerish an non-productive ways that might annoy the beautiful fiancee who is watching from the couch, making certain that a blog post is written. Now. No delay.

It is done, however, under duress.

More later. I may have to give a foot massage to further redeem myself and make up for the fact, as mentioned, that I suck.