Deborah Woehr

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how to promote WBA, as well as my other blogs. There are a slew of RSS sites and blog directories, which everybody and their grandmother knows about. I keep looking on Amazon.com as well as my local brick and mortar book stores and seeing maybe a half-dozen books on blogging.

The latest book, Blog Marketing by Jeremy Wright is very good. The gist I’m getting so far (I’m not finished reading.) is that business need to rethink how they market themselves in the 21st century. The same thing goes for writers, especially the ones who are using blogs as a means to gain readers. Basically, we need to think outside the box if we’re going to stand out from the millions of other blogs out there.

Last week, during my rounds, I saw this comment by Scot in response to Clive Allen’s A Short Blogging Story”:

“Who knows, but a thought occured to me the other day about how grand it would be see an anthology published that contained some of the best writing being done today by bloggers.”

I had been mulling over the idea of creating a physical directory for writers who blog months before I erected the WBA site. But the idea of combing through tens of thousands of blogs to find the gems was too daunting. I did try.

I’m still very interested in publishing a writer’s blog directory because I think we need one to promote ourselves offline. Do you agree?

Originally, I was going to use the Name, URL, and the short blurb format. But Scot’s comment got me thinking. What if we went beyond the usual directory format to include our best posts (the ones that gained the most response from our readers)? We could also include a short paragraph about why we chose to write that particular post, as well as tacking in our bylines.

This directory/anthology will be broken into sections: litblogs, journalists, freelancers, fiction, non-fiction, columnists, etc. This will allow readers to jump to the subjects they’re interested in. The size of this book will be determined by the number of submissions I get. I’m setting the minimum goal at 50 by January 31st and the publication date of February 10th.

At this time, I’m not able to pay you for your submissions. This is a volunteer effort. What you’ll get out of this is free advertising and exposure. I’ve given you my plan. What are your thoughts?

It’s been pretty quiet around here lately, mainly because I’ve been busy with my writing and working. My job was supposed to last through the end of the month, but I’ll be lucky to finish this week out. I’m hoping this contract assignment will lead to others. Otherwise, I’ll have to start actively looking for another job beginning in January.

My husband celebrated his 39th birthday on Friday. We had a house full of screaming and hooting kids, ranging in ages from 3 to 40. A good time was had by all.

I have Scene 1 of Chapter Twelve almost complete. Yes, it’s taken me all week to finish this. See above for the explanation. I thought about posting it here, but it’s too strong. The bad deputy and his skanky wife were executed by the sheriff because the deputy raped a 17 year-old girl. I can dig Prosperity’s justice system. No free food and cable for the baddies! Woo-hoo!

Since last Thursday, I’ve been working on a contract job, scanning documents. The job is boring as hell, but the atmosphere is the polar opposite from the last place I worked. The people there are very nice and personable, and they enjoy their jobs.

I struck up a conversation with the receptionist this morning, asking her if she has all of her Christmas shopping done. From there, we talked about our families. Then she asked me where I lived. When I told her, her mouth fell open.

As it turns out, she lives on the street that intersects with mine. She moved into her house in 1974, one year after my in-laws moved into the place I’m living in. Her best friend lives a few doors down from me, and she knew the neighbors that used to live kitty-corner across the street from us. Not only that, but she used to see my father-in-law walking his poodles down her street everyday. Both of us were floored.

This reminds me of the way I met my husband. He literally walked through my front door on April Fool’s Day, 1988. One of his buddies needed help moving his girlfriend into a condo I shared with another friend. As we got to know each other, I found out that some of his friends had dated some of my classmates in high school. Had I been friends with those girls, I might have met him sooner than I did.

It’s things like this that make this world seem so small. Now that we’re in an era of global travel and communication, it’s gotten even smaller.

This needs some editing and expansion, but I’m going to leave it for now in order to keep moving with the plot. I’m almost at the 50% mark for my 100,000-word goal. Amanda goes to the general store to show the owner the evidence which suggests that the bad deputy raped the owner’s daughter (who is dead). This is not a goodwill gesture, but a tactical move to destroy the deputy before he can destroy her as well as weaken the town’s trust with the sheriff.

I was going to post yesterday, but had one of those rare days when I was able to write at a steady pace all day long. I’m nearly halfway (I think) through Chapter 11 and look forward to going further tonight, especially since my husband will be engrossed in Monday Night Football.

An update on his computer troubles: His computer completely fried. He couldn’t even use the keyboard on the new one. It amazed me how severe his computer self-destructed. I’m surprised shrapnel didn’t fly.

Thanks to Lee for suggesting that I email myself whenever I update my manuscript. Gmail is great for large files, while Yahoo takes forever.

I recently read the posts of two bloggers who had the misfortune of their computers dying on them. They’re not alone. My husband called me about 30 minutes ago to tell me that the power supply burned up in his office computer, complete with smoke and sparks. A rather dramatic ending, if I say so myself.

He called me again just now, telling me that he thinks his computer is toast. Worse, he hasn’t backed up anything in a month. That is not good at all. All I could say to him was, “Oooh!”

I’m not very good at backing up my hard drive. My G4 has been so good to me over the past four years that I didn’t see the need. But it’s starting to show its age. For instance, I had to reboot the thing twice this morning to get it to run. Guess what I’ll be doing today?

For the first time in thirty years, we had unseasonably warm weather in mid-November. We were beginning to wonder when winter would come. It smacked us today with 40-60 mph winds and lots of rain. I’m so grateful that I don’t have to commute to Dublin anymore, which would have forced me to drive a very treacherous route through a windtunnel.

Nevertheless, I was forced to drive and walk in this weather, due to a new job I just landed. Even though I grumbled and swore at the idiot drivers around me, I was thankful that the job is local. After I picked up my youngest, I went home for a bit before I picked up my oldest. I’m glad that I did.

My backyard looks like it was hit by a very light hurricane. My lawn furniture was blown about, and the umbrella on my table got lifted out of its foundation and hurled against the house. Nothing was broken, but I was surprised by the sight.

Of course I had to go out into the wind and rain, which made impressive little waves in the pool. All of the leaves were blown into the pool were pushed into a clump in the shallow end. I should have taken advantage of this and cleared them out. But I knew there would be more, so I didn’t bother. Of course, I’ll pay for that later.

Right now, I’m enjoying being inside, smelling the chicken soup simmering in my crockpot and listening to my two little darlings fighting off and on.

I found this headline on Yahoo! and immediately recalled the harsh criticism Singapore received when they caned two boys for vandalism. This time, an Australian was executed for drug traffiking, despite many appeals from the Aussie government. The young man got to visit with his family, which I felt was very generous of the Singaporean government.

There are many bleeding hearts out there that are crying for him right now, as they did for those boys who got caned. I’m not one of them. In fact, I feel relieved to know that there is one less scumbag in the world. You know the old saying: Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.