Mild Case of WordPress Neurosis

Over the past few months of wordpressing, some questions have arisen that made me wonder if anybody else feels the same way, or if the same things happen to other bloggers.

Accurate representation of how I came to this website.
  • Who else feels like a fraud when you follow someone who has been Freshly Pressed? Like, the only reason you’re doing it is because they’ve been F.P’ed? I imagine the bloggers think this because I found them this way, but really, I just think you’re neat.
  • So, do you guys feel bad for your earlier posts that don’t receive attention anymore, or just me? I kind of want to link mine in a new post and shove them in your face but at the same time I don’t see this working.
    What a Way to Make a Livin’
    Allergic to Good Writin

    Whoops I slipped.
  • When someone likes 8 of your posts in 20 seconds, are they the fastest readers in the world, or did they line up all the posts in individual tabs, read them all, then go back and click like like like? …Or are they just faking it in the hopes you’ll come check their blog out? Hmm. This happened to me once. Yeah man, I knew what you were up to! I win! The prize is the honour of being neurotic.
  • Is it a good idea to have a header image? I am forever caught between thinking mine is lame, and thinking it’s alright. I feel like I should be a much more important person to have one.
Cracking open the wordpress debate with the really hard hitting questions.
  • Do you ever approve comments while thinking ‘I’ll reply to this later’, but then never do? Sometimes I look back at posts and realise I have a whole bunch of comments – really nice comments no less – that I never replied to because of my awful memory for such things. I’m also that person who forgets to reply to your text messages for an hour. I promise when it comes to things like homework and jobs I’m better. Personal stuff? No. Trivia: I started writing this on October 4th but forgot about it until now.
  • Do you feel too awkward to write back to comments you forgot about? This is part 2 of the above point. Is there a time frame? I feel like a creep or really stupid when I reply a month later; I don’t know what’s worse, late or not at all? Better late than never is what they say I guess!
  • When you reblog someone’s post and people like it on your profile instead of on their’s. I feel like I’ve taken credit for someone else’s work, and want to say, “I can’t write stuff that interesting – it’s someone smarter than me!”
  • There’s a line between ‘hey could you check this out?’ and ‘LOOK AT MY THING NOW’. Am I the only one scared of heavy self-promotion?

    Join the pretty logos, yes, join us
  • Being Freshly Pressed seems impossible, you guys feel it to? I never thought it would happen to me, and didn’t start my blog for it – I was one of those clueless bloggers who were like, ‘hey what’s this tab?’ I am 100% certain I will never be Freshly Pressed no matter what I write about or how I write it. I just know it’s not happening for this blog, so I don’t worry about it – I just enjoy the posts that are Freshly Pressed.
  • Have you ever checked the spam box only to discover it’s full of normal comments from nice people?
  • Have you ever received a pingback on one of your posts but were never able to get to the website linking you? I can only assume that post of mine is now on a strange, virus infested website run by creeps…
  • You’ve googled your blog to see how many pages it takes to come up haven’t you? I realised that my name is not original enough to be first up, damn kittens.
  • In relation to the point above, this reminds me: people were finding my blog via googling ‘spanking mistress’. I googled that to see how it was coming up. It didn’t come up for 40 pages so I gave up. That means people are looking through that many pages+ of ‘spanking mistress’ related websites before reaching mine. They must have a lot of free time.

And I must have a lot of free time to have written this with such enjoyment. Excuse me, I need to go be constructive now.

[click pictures for links to original owners] 

Surviving Progress

“We have to use less.”
“Nature is not a credit card we can endlessly draw on.”

Remember my post yesterday about over-population, and that we should be limiting how many children we each have? Not just us, but everyone? Well last night as some sort of icing on the cake I watched the documentary Surviving Progress and I become set in stone on my point.

I’m not one to push things on people. I don’t normally try to force people into doing something I’ve done because I’ve found when you push, people resist. But this, bloggers, this documentary was superb. An eye opener. You know people always talk about ‘eye openers’ and you’re like, pfft please, don’t be silly. Well, it was.

Stephen Hawking said we only have 2 centuries left unless we can avoid disaster.


And only if we ‘avoid’ disaster. Spending our lives avoiding disaster? Does that sound fun to any of you guys? Don’t turn away from this documentary of what we need to start doing as the entire population of Earth.

I know I know, I sound a bit nuts and unpleasant. I can’t help it right now. Trust me, you’ll sound just as ‘oh gosh’ after watching it as well (you have the internet, you’re surely able to watch it via here, no excuses) but you’ll also start becoming a better member of society.

If you’d like to see if there’s something you could try to help (consuming less doesn’t mean having a worse life) Click this and check it out, the man was in the documentary, and if he can do what he did in New York City, you can do it anywhere. (Also, I know you’re on your computer right now, haha duh, but let’s all switch it off and save some electricity after we finish up on wordpress. We’ll be like an electricity saving team. Except you need more than 1 reader to be a team… oh)

Stephen Hawking theoretical physicist
“We are entering an increasingly dangerous period of our history.
But I’m an optimist.”

And don’t forget to click on the Surviving Progress website:

Mean Comments: Click Approve?

Question: if you don’t allow a mean comment to be visible on your blog, are you hiding something or just looking out for yourself?

The thing about the internet, and having any sort of public platform on the internet, is that you’re going to attract a snarky remark at some point. It’s inevitable. There are too many people of differing viewpoints, experiences, feelings and knowledge for there to ever be perfect harmony. Which is a good thing, of course, I don’t need to rattle off the whole ‘because if we were all the same life would be boring” spiel again, do I? Continue reading “Mean Comments: Click Approve?”

You Know You’re a Writer When…

I’m sure there are many lists out there on the interwebs that cover the same subject as this one. However, I made the diplomatic decision to not google “You know you’re a writer when” so that I didn’t stumble across an awesome list that includes things I’d never thought of for mine, or one that presents their points far more beautifully than me. I’m avoiding plagiarism really, I should probably get bonus points. (And if I’m in strong enough denial I might be able to delude myself into thinking this is the only list of it’s kind on the internet. Wow!)

– When you see somebody interesting you begin to think of a life story for them. You come up with their background, their childhood, what their personality is like, where they work, what their secret dreams are, turn them into spies, murderers, amazing chefs, etc. You also understand that ‘interesting’ can include a very long, varied list of humans that might not be interesting to others at all.

– You often find yourself narrating your activities in a voice that isn’t yours, but a character’s. Then you go a step further and start putting their spin / feeling on the activity instead of your own. And if you go one step further you’ll include why they feel that way about an activity when you give them a history.

– You read a lot of books as a child (if you were able to) and they were a great comfort, or love. You also still have your favourite childhood books.

– You wrote stories as a child. I’ve mentioned before my very first masterpiece (indeed my only masterpiece) “The Cat and the Dog” which was a short story about – you guessed it – meeting a cat and a dog I wrote when I was 4. I promised I’d find the book and post the pictures, but all I could find was my second work, ‘The Frog’

Not nearly as sophisticated. You can probably tell I had lots of varied and complex ideas when I was 4.

– When you were upset, depressed or mad, you often wrote about it. Nowadays it’s much easier to write a social networking status about our problems, but I think a true writer has a journal or notebook, or a childhood diary, full of these miserable moments that alternate between explaining the situation in full and beautiful prose describing the feelings over the event. Reaching for that notebook and pen when you were depressed and alone was like reaching for your only friend, and you felt release when the words were down. You won’t find the same feeling of peace after an angry status, trust me.

– There’s always at least one half-written story saved on your computer.

– You feel at peace perusing a book shelf. Sitting for hours pulling down books at random from every genre, having to painfully play elimination until you’ve got just the one or two you can afford. “This one is bigger so I’d get my moneys worth… but this one has a pretty picture on the cover…”

– Your bookshelf is your pride and joy. My boyfriend’s brother was talking about this; he explained it so much better than I ever could but I completely agreed (see? I agreed. Therefore it can be my opinion too, right?) A bookshelf is a very special piece of furniture – setting it up takes a lot of thought. There are some books you don’t want on your bookshelf because they ruin how it feels. Your bookshelf shows who you are, where you’ve been and who you want to become. Mine has sections: all time favourites, classics, books I want to read, and books I think I should read. I owe this revelation of how I stack them to that brother-in-law (ever more talented than I) as previously I did this subconsciously. Seriously the ‘crappy’ books I don’t want to admit I’ve read are in a box, the alright ones are stacked next to the bookshelf and the shelf itself is in a hierarchy from best to not as best. With some colour coordinating.

– You can openly admit that there are crappy books. None of this “no every book is special! You obviously don’t care!” stuff, you understand that in order for a book to be special there are factors: quality, feeling, author (perhaps the book was the reason you became interested them), where it came from, how you came to read it, when in your life you read it – you have a history with all your books, no matter how small.

– You understand that you don’t have to finish reading a book. One of the best moments in my reading life was realising it’s okay to put a novel down if I don’t like it. There are no rules saying you must finish every book you start. You only have to finish the ones that you want to, and if you don’t? Put it back.

– You have that one paragraph or two that is the best thing you’ve ever written… but it doesn’t fit in any story you try to write for it.

– Inspiration can come from any place. It might not lead anywhere in the long run but you’ve been surprised by some of the inspirations you’ve had.

– Characters sometimes refuse to cooperate or stick to the original plan for a story. They’re like the whiny teenagers who won’t submit to the ‘be home by 10’ rule at times.

– If you’re a fan of journals and notebooks you have many, and definitely a favourite. You’ll perhaps even go through phases with ‘special’ pens. Here’s mine, though I mostly type to save my hands from shrivelling up.

– Words often speak to you. By which I mean, every now and then you get the eerie feeling that what you’re reading was meant specifically for you, at that specific point in your life… You weren’t expecting to see yourself or your situation staring up at you from a page until it happens, and it’s always a little bit spooky. If you’re remembering a time that wasn’t a little bit spooky, then it hasn’t happened to you yet.

– It can be hard, painful, emotional, draining to finish a piece of work. But you can’t stop.

– Finally, it’s that indescribable internal push to write. You don’t really know why you have to, you just know that there’s an irresistible need to put pen to paper and create. It’s the ever moving gust of wind, or spirit that swirls inside, rushing you along and spouting from your imagination, lips, fingers. It’s the feeling that keeps you going, that keeps returning you to your literary work time and time again even if the rest of you feels hopeless. It’s the reason you chose to say “I’m a writer.” It’s different for everyone, and always just beyond the perfect describing words – which is ironic, considering our line of work.

This list will be forever incomplete. Impossible, to say the least, to nail every point that defines why we write. Beyond definition, and certainly not encompassing of every person who has picked up a pencil and sat down to create a story, then chosen to do it for life. Your own reasons, quirks or funny moments will vary from other’s; you’re welcome to include your own points for this list! No doubt I’ll be adding new ones. 

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