Read This Crap Dot Com

After attending that writing conference that I clearly can't shut up about, I came to a very scary conclusion....I want my own website. This little deal you are reading now has worked out for the most part, but I have been getting a lot of feedback from other writers and bloggers that if I am to be taken seriously (people will take me seriously?) I should contemplate a dot com. There were huge obstacles in actually pursuing that option including cost, learning Wordpress, figuring out what dot com I should buy, and cost. Did I mention cost? Yeah, it's a bit of an obstacle to convince my husband to shell out thousands of dollars on a website when there isn't even ten dollars coming in. He's a business guy, he wants to know when he will see a return on investment. Even I know that throwing money at something that may or may not make money in two years is a shitty business model. What I needed to know was how to get from where I am now to where I want to be and whether or not I would need to sell my car to get there. I surveyed a lot of people about where I should go with this project because I am a writer, not a website designer or professional blogger. There were free options; learn Wordpress and build it yourself or stay with what you have and keep adding material. There were really fucking expensive options; I received a proposal from one company with a projected cost of $4,795. I nearly fainted, fell down a flight of stairs and broke my collar bone.

After my heart began beating again, I made some decisions that I am really excited about sharing. I have hired someone I know to build my site, I chose a dot com that I thought would fit my needs for the long haul, and I am meeting with a very talented photographer this weekend to whip up some ideas for website pics. For a long time, I didn't have a vision for my writing, honestly I didn't believe I was a writer. Now I feel inspired to create a place for my writing that represents who I am, where I am headed and something that I hope people are excited to check out. Obviously, there is a cost associated with it, but it feels manageable and I didn't want anything for Christmas or my birthday or Mother's Day or any other holiday for the next two years anyway.

What does this all mean? I don't have a fucking clue. It will be a new place to read my writing, a place where people can find out about other writers, and hopefully one day, a place to buy or download or check out a published book by me. That is weird to think about. I'll keep you posted on how the building of my website is progressing. I am interested in what you like to see on websites? What keeps you coming back for more? Free bacon? Mind blowing photography? Book reviews? Let me know in the comments. I can't promise anything, but you know how I like a good survey.

Thanks, Miley.

Just so we are clear, I have been posing with my tongue out long before it was being compared to camel pics or horse mugshots on the internet. My blog pic has been the same for two years, long before Ms. Cyrus flung her tongue out for the whole world to see. Honestly, I think I look better with my mouth open, eye brows raised and eyeballs looking to the side.(I'm never looking at anything in particular, in case you were wondering).  It's my look. The majority of selfies that are saved in my Dropbox have the same cracked out, sass face. But now, it's scandalous and people are expecting me to twerk with teddy bears when I go to the grocery store.

For a moment, I felt that the tongue selfies must come to an end.  It wasn't professional, it was immature and maybe it was time to take myself seriously. Pretty sure that's not happening and here's why.....there is no way my face will ever look as palatable without my mouth gaping. When I look directly into a camera and smile, my left eye squints and people wonder if I have had a stroke. A peripheral shot highlights my acne scars and these strange lines around my eyes that have surfaced as of my 30th birthday. I don't have cute ears and my nose is upturned just enough to make me look bitchy and unapproachable. Okay, I am both of those things but fuck you for saying so. Being forced to have respectable bio pic on my blog makes me feel like a fraud. I also worry that no one who really knows me would recognize a photo of me with a fake smile, mom hair and a collared shirt. Gag me with a spoon or a sharp, sharp knife.

Perhaps one day, I will be ready to pull all my tongue pics down and begin taking selfies with my tits bulging into my neck or rear views of my jeans sliding precariously down while my thong underwear make my b'hole bleed. I could make a killing on Twitter with that shit.Or maybe serious face selfies similar to those in Napolean Dynamite, chin on fist, head tilted. But probably not. These pics are my personality and this is my blog. I'm sassy, insecure, funny, bitchy, and determined. Determined to keep being myself regardless of how it may be perceived. I've never made a good first impression anyway, so why start now.

I Did The Scariest Thing And Survived

There are a lot of things I am afraid of; swimming in the deep part of the ocean, getting pulled over by a cop, watching my daughter grow into a woman and losing people I love. I am also afraid of reading my work in front of other people. Namely, complete strangers who are also writers. These people are usually readers and well versed in what is good and what is shitty. They know how it feels to write and rewrite and then want to burn every single word on the page. They have read funny and they have been offended by off color humor. They have heard hundreds of people say hundreds of times "My friend has a blog and it's really funny. You should check it out." Most of the time they don't and if they do, it's not as good as it was promised to be. I didn't want to be that friend.

I went to this writing conference with the intention of taking classes and workshops and keeping my mouth shut. When I was perusing the schedule, I allowed the highlighter to skip any workshop that included reading or critiquing. I told myself that my writing wasn't ready. The truth is, I wasn't ready.

I brought writing samples with the intention of having my author friend look over them, without me around and tell me how I could change them and make them better. He kindly informed me that I would be "getting my cherry popped" and taking a reading/critique class. Possibly more than one. My stomach immediately knotted up and I am still getting over the diarrhea it induced.

So I did it. And I didn't die. I read my work in two separate workshops and the feedback I received was astounding. I wanted to cry and hug people and finish my book and scream from the tallest building "They like it, they really like it!!" I know this feeling won't last forever, but it has given me the kick in the ass I needed to keep going. To stop questioning what I am doing, to own my writing, to share my writing and to admit that I, too, am a writer. You heard it here first, I'm a writer and I don't care who knows.

If you haven't already, please check out my friend John's website. He has some very entertaining blog posts and you can watch a trailer about the book he wrote called Where Excuses Go To Die. I've read it, I love it and you can read my review on Goodreads. He is an author worth following.
www.whereexcusesgotodie.com

My Giving Challenge: Small Tokens And My Writing Journey

Day 26 & 27: Small Tokens

Giving has been hard for me the last two days,all I want to do is crawl under my comforter and wait for this black cloud to lift. I am not at the top of my game this week. I've spent the better part of every day wallowing in what I perceive as my greatest defeat, losing one writing competition. I am slowly realizing how insignificant it is and that I had better learn to take defeats in stride if I want to keep writing. I know it won't be the last. I strive to be the best at everything I do and when I don't succeed in that unrealistic venture, I want to give up and let myself sit in my shit. I'm a monkey with rotten peanuts that I just won't let go of. (It's a training reference that usually makes me want to slap the person who mentions it, so slap away.) That has been my week in a nutshell. (Ha, I've still got it.)

On Day 26, my gift was playing with my son. I'm terrible at video games and he rarely asks me to play, but today he did and it was one of the few moments I have felt happy this week. My mind wasn't swirling about writing or making an income or being enough, I was just playing and it was wonderful. He had to remind me numerous times which buttons to push and how to jump over the bad guys. Laughing and playing felt so good....I hate that I forget that sometimes.

My gift on Day 27 was taking my kids and their friend to the pool for a much needed outing. While it wasn't in the budget, we all needed some Vitamin D and a couple hours away from the house. I also connected with my step-mom who has been one of my staunchest supporters when it comes to my writing career. After she updated me on her new job she asked "How's the famous writer doing?" I was honest. I was shitty, but I knew it would pass. "Give yourself a break." she said. I am still learning how to do that.


I am working on my last two days of giving and I want to go out with a bang. One of the stretches that was shared in the book was to give something away that you never thought you could part with. While I don't have many possessions that I feel overly attached to, minus my wedding ring and family photos, I am going to let that be my guide during these last two days of giving.

Thank you for all the support and shares this week!!! My blog has doubled the number of hits it receives on Monday, Wednesday and Friday and that is a big deal. Also, I was pursued by a company to put ads on my blog this week and while it wasn't clear as to whether I would be paid or not, my instinct was to turn them down. When I asked if it was a free or compensated advertisement, they never got back to me. I'm actually really glad. The intention of this blog is to hone my writing skills, find readers who enjoy my writing style, touch people who love to share my stories and eventually have a group of people who would be interested in buying and reading a book authored by me. I am not in the advertising business and I want you, the reader, to know that until further notice, this is an ad free blog. I am a writer, not a marketer or an advertiser. Thank you for supporting my writing journey.    

Wine-ing

As previously stated, I can't drink like I use to back in the day. I'm older and after giving up alcohol during my pregnancies, I have a low tolerance. Which is great at the bar because I'm a cheap date. My husband has made it his mission in life to question my ability to drink more than two beers.
Him: "You sure you want that third?"
Me: "You sure you want to see me naked at some point in the next 6 months? Mind your own business."

But he's right, I have had a few brushes with vomiting after only a couple hours of drinking and one episode of Double Dragon. Google that and then try not to judge too harshly. That particular event occurred at my sister's house after an 8 hour shift, no food and a bottle of wine. Not my proudest moment.
As I have been writing more, I can see why so many writers, past and present, have been alcoholics. It is very challenging to rip your soul out in words every single day and then feel like you haven't contributed to society in any functional way. Writing a book is especially taxing on my self esteem as I am not sure if or when anyone will ever see it, publish it or love it. It's like running in circles and telling everyone that's your job. It creates an overwhelming desire to drink.

Alcohol also has a creative element to it that I am sure any artist can attest to. After a couple of glasses of white wine, I have a slew of ideas for my blog, my book and for articles that I feel are like nothing anyone has ever written before. Then I sober up and wonder why anyone reads the shitty shit I write. It's enough to want to commit myself to a psychiatric hospital and go crawling back to Starbucks begging for my "real" job back. If you are interested in working your ass off, feeling like you haven't done a damn thing and becoming an alcoholic, become a writer.

Don't forget to check out my article about marriage and faith on mythirtyspot.com and follow me on Twitter @BrasherMandy. Strangely I have 300 followers over there, because there seem to be other like minded drunks who think I am as funny as I do.