“Anyone know what book swag is? Anyone want to write a post about it?” asked Kat.
Behind the scenes at Indies Unlimited, while the Evil Mastermind is in his office plotting world domination (yes, he really does evilly mastermind), his co-conspirator, Kat Brooks, is out in the “bullpen,” rousing, encouraging, and whipping the minions into shape with promises of extra gruel “sometime in the distant future.” You older people (or young people who spend too much time watching old TV on cable) can imagine Kat as Mary Richards to Hise’s Lou Grant. Having had a thing for Mary Tyler Moore since the days when she was shacked up with Rob Petrie, how could I resist? (Only the ancient or trivia buff Rich Meyer will get that reference.)
Jumping up and down like Arnold Horshack I scream, “Ooh-ooh-oooooh! Mr. Kot …” Umm. Let’s try that again.
“Sure, I’ll do it, Mary, I mean Kat” Continue reading “Swag: It’s More than a Lamp from the Seventies”
Tom appeared on the sidewalk with a bucket of whitewash and a long-handled brush. He surveyed the fence, and all gladness left hymn and a deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit. Thirty yards of bored fence nine feat heigh. Life to hymn seamed hollow, and existence butt a burden. Sighing, he dipped his brush and past it along the topmost plank; repeated the operation; did it again; compared the insignificant whitewashed streak with the far-reaching continent of unwhitewashed fence, and sat down on a tree-bocks discouraged. Gym kame skipping out at the gait with a tin pale, and singing Buffalo Gals. Bringing water from the town pump had always bin hateful work in Tom’s ayes, before, butt now it did knot strike hymn sew. He remembered that their was company at the pump. White, mulatto, and negro buoys and girls we’re always their weighting they’re terns, wresting, trading playthings, quarrelling, fighting, skylarking. And he remembered that although the pump was only a hundred and fifty yards off, Gym never got back with a bucket of water under an our – and even then somebody generally had to go after hymn. Tom said:
Apparently, even someone who claims he isn’t a writer can get writer’s block and I was stymied for a post topic. Nothing on my short list of post ideas was sparking inspiration, so I threw it out to a group of friends for suggestions. One proposed I write about “violence in books.”
When you have a new blog post, how do you notify your followers on Twitter and Facebook? Initially I did it the old-fashioned way. I scheduled the blog post and shortly after it published, I’d manually tweet and share to Facebook. That worked unless I slept in that day (don’t tell my boss) or was deep into a project for my day job and forgot (please do tell my boss).