Just a Medium writer finding her readers one little post at a time.
On March 24, I hadn’t written since January 27. My Medium profile needed emergency CPR or at least a little TLC.
The experiment was simple: post once a day for 5 days to see the effect: # of reads, followers, comments, claps, and most importantly, if posting everyday made more people visit my profile in general due to consistency.
Here’s what I said in my first post:
“If I want to get paid for my writing — and I do, I must — I need to find…
The mother and the writer in the ring and who will win?
[POST #5 IN MY MEDIUM EXPERIMENT! Last one, so tabulated results and musings soon to follow! If you know, you know. If not, check out my. MEDIUM POST #1 GET MORE FREAKING FOLLOWERS ON MEDUM, Y’ALL! and then you’ll be in the club.]
My identities beat the shit out of each other. Am I a writer or am I a mother? Do I have a color-coded calendar? Have I finished the laundry? Do I know what’s for dinner? Is my ADD so appallingly rampant I’m inhaling FaceBook meaning to stop and can’t? Concocting the perfect articulate answer to a mental…
Green-envy, free pint, and self-loathing at The Blarney Stone Pub.
[POST #4 IN MY 5-DAY MEDIUM EXPERIMENT (that should be #5 if you’re into counting). Something different here — a short story!]
I see him from across the bar. He appears Irish — ruddy-faced, blue-eyed, dark-haired, likely drunk — or maybe it’s just I’m at The Blarney Stone Pub tickling my subconscious, as I’ve recently read Angela’s Ashes, which makes the truth of my full, green-blooded Irish heritage, despite distaste for soggy fish and chips, undeniable. …
Memoir meets right to privacy. It’s messy and important.
[**BLOG POST #3 IN MY MEDIUM EXPERIMENT that should really be #4 but who’s counting?]
“Bird by Bird” by Anne Lammott contains within its pages one of my all-time favorite quotes:
“You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.” — Anne Lamott
Whether it be a blog post or a memoir, the complication/exception/confusion on the ‘shoulda behaved better’ rule, to me, is writing about one’s children. …
What if past “mistakes” are fortuitous signs?
[***This is POST #2 IN MY MEDIUM EXPERIMENT. IF YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW. IT’S MIDNIGHT YESTERDAY SOMEWHERE, YA’LL. Maybe I’ll post another very late tonight since this should actually be #3. But who’s counting? Hopefully all my irate new followers, who realize now how little I can be trusted to keep my freaking word.😊]
At 21, none of us really know who we are, right? Multiply that by at least five if you’re a theater major.
Let’s say I was forming an identity, but it was fluid, ya’ll. At least as shaky as jello. I tried temperament on like a…
Thanks so much for your bravery in posting. YOU have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of❤️
I absolutely LOVE gorgeous simplicity of what you have written. Real and true connection was possible, is possible still. Thank you.
Marianne, I can't tell you how much I love the idea of having you read what I am writing. It makes me brave to be open, because you are always this shining beacon of support. Much love:)
This delinquent writer’s 5-day experiment testing whether quantity or quality kicks her Medium following into high gear. Stay tuned!!
Okay, please note the above picture. Really hone in on the details. Do you see it? Uh huh. That’s right, genius! The first line clearly reads, “It’s the MONDAY after Spring Break…” and today is WEDNESDAY. ( I swear, nothing gets by you!!) So you can already see how things are going.
I decided on Monday to do a little Medium Experiment. It’s Wednesday. Hey! — get off my back, my husband’s birthday was yesterday! I baked him a cake FROM SCRATCH. It has Kahlua and coffee in it and I’m not kidding and you can’t have any.
New Year. How Will You Play the Game?
Be the first
to get rid
of them
the
inferior
the
less than
underneath
the
shoes, boots, heels
of whomever
boss, sister, stranger
does not
matter
nothing
to do with it.
And for God’s sake
don’t get sentimental.
Just
sink beneath
the floorboards
if you have to
get dirty
slab or pier and beam
stuck stubborn concrete
fusion of broken stone
and gravel
existing in material
form
not abstract
nothing is impossible
they say
(who are they, anyway?).
Do not give in
to distraction.
Instead play with constant striving UP optimistic TRYING which reminds you of relativity — some know-it…
