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 |  A blog about music from my unique perspective (also a spot for some poetry I’ve written) |
A simple music themed blog for Jeff’s "The Soundtrack of Your Life"  challenge, and also to dump my thoughts about the 48 Hour Media Challenges when I don’t feel like creating a story or poem from the provided material. I may also add random poetry in here if I feel like it doesn’t qualify for a separate item.![Merit Badge in WDC Media Prompt
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Thank you for your participation in the 48-HOUR CHALLENGE: " Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac " Media Prompt hosted by [Link To User support] March 2024! We appreciate that you tackled this challenge... *^*Smile*^* *^*Thumbsupl*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/WDC-WDC_Media_Prompt.gif) ![Merit Badge in WDC Soundtrackers
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Congratulations on successfully completing [Link To Item #soyl] (2024 Edition) by writing all 29 entries during the month of February!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-WDC_Soundtrackers-1979333_7.gif){kind=tracking} ![Merit Badge in Journaling
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Congrats on your Honorable Mention in Blog Week Birthday Bastion 2024](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/type-Journaling-2180.gif) |
| The world is not an ideal place for lots of people. What can YOU do to make it better? I have a tendency to avoid engaging with bad news, sheltering myself from the outside world because I feel helpless to do anything about everything that's wrong with it. If you asked me about the Israeli Palestinian conflict, or the economy, or Russia and Ukraine, or any number of current issues, I wouldn't have an answer or even a strong opinion either way. I've forced myself to "not care" out of sheer pessimism and also due to a tendency to get lost in the arguments on all sides while trying to be reasonable and open-minded. Having started off on a dreary note, I'll now address the simple question: what can I actually do, in practical everyday terms, to make the world a better place? I'm a believer in "charity begins at home," and that means I'll have to start small with what I have, which firstly is myself. I can start each day with a smile instead of a groan. I can end each day by noting down three good things which happened. I can try my best to treat others with respect and kindness. I can think before I speak or post. Another thing I can do which potentially has far reaching effects is to write. Even if I feel inadequate to address social issues non-fictionally, I can write stories of hope and redemption, of wrongs being righted, of situations brought to light. I can explore the good, the true and the beautiful in my own unique way, bringing my perspective and experience into my creations and allowing others a glimpse into my values and worldview. I don't know if these small actions will make the world any better, but I do know I will be a better person if I could remember these "cans" instead of dwelling on the "can'ts" of my life. Thank you for hosting this blogging challenge. I really enjoyed it. Word Count: 318. |
Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets. – Paul Tournier Can you share a secret? Small or big, tell us. No? Tell us why not. What do you think we are, two years old or something? If someone has things they choose to keep private about their mental health, physical health, personal life, religion, gender/sexuality, job status, education status, wealth, or even their housing status, that's entirely their call and it's none of your business to inquire. These days when mega corporations are after everyone's data and website security is constantly breached, it's even more important to maintain a level of privacy or even anonymity about one's online persona. We all know the old rule of "don't share your birthday, birthplace, high school, first pet, first car, mother's maiden name, etc because those are your account security questions…" And I hope we never expect such openness from others. The modern social media environment has brought us to the point where we assume everything we do has to be publicized, monetized, beautified, and otherwise adulterated for widespread consumption. I don't believe in making my private life a subject of discussion among others, even if this is a safe space and y'all are my friends. Enough ranting. I'll do my best to treat the prompt good-humored-ly from this point…   One secret I think I can safely share here is that I'm really Elsa, the Snow Queen. After the events of Frozen 2, I decided to spend most of my time alone in the Northern Lands, hanging out with my elemental spirit companions: Bruni the Fire Salamander, the Water Nokk (a blue ice horse,) Gale, the wind spirit, and the Earth Giants. The most enjoyable moments of my life are when I'm riding my water horse through the wild woods, headed back to Arendelle to visit Anna. She's my little sister; when I moved up north she became ruler in my place. I felt nervous at first about this arrangement, afraid people would say I abdicated, that I was being irresponsible to run away from my duties as queen. But Anna rose to the challenge. I'm proud of how well she's handling being Queen. It was one of the most freeing things I've ever done, to release the heavy burden of rulership and find my true self in the peace and tranquility of the great wilderness beyond our kingdom. At times, however, such solitude becomes boring. There's a limit to the intelligent conversation one can have with a fire salamander or a water horse. And weekly visits to see my family only go so far. It is then that I turn to writing: stories, poetry, even songs. I come here to see what a diverse and cooperative writing community looks like, and I share what I create. Anna recommended I not reveal my identity at first, out of concern for my well-being. I found it quite amusing to play myself in the 2023 Masquerade; I daresay no one guessed it wasn't a roleplay at all. Having now given away my deepest and strangest secret, I close with the words of OneRepublic, one of my favorite artists: I need another story, something to get off my chest My life gets kinda boring—need something that I can confess Till all my sleeves are stained red From all the truth that I've said Come by it honestly, I swear Thought you saw me wink, no— I've been on the brink, so Tell me what you want to hear Something that'll light those ears Sick of all the insinceres I'm gonna give all my secrets away This time, don't need another perfect lie Don't care if critics never jump in line I'm gonna give all my secrets away… Got no reasons, got no shame Got no family I can blame Just don't let me disappear I'ma tell you everything… Word Count: 623. |
The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go. – Dr. Seuss Tell us more about the writer in you. Plans/ Aspirations/ Fears/ Status etc? I've always been a creative writer since I was a little kid. It began with simple, goofy stories about my stuffed animals. I wrote fanfiction of The Wind in the Willows, being entirely unaware there was a name for such derivative works. I wrote a comedy of Romeo and Juliet featuring a "story within a story" of my stuffed animals putting on a play. I transcribed and turned into stories the dialogues from my favorite TV shows, which I had memorized. I built a fictional Little House style pioneer universe populated with a kingdom of pug dogs inspired by my stuffed pug collection. I never sought an audience for my stories, having read some of them at an early age to my mom and been rather embarrassed when she gently pointed out absurdities. It didn't occur to me that anyone else might appreciate them. As I learned more about literature over the years in my homeschooling, I would look back at my earlier work and cringe, taking time to lovingly edit, rewrite and improve it. I also journaled extensively, writing about our garden and the various plants and animals, observing the foibles of our neighbors, and recording the myriad little peculiarities of life. I never thought to make a living off of writing; it was just something I did, a way to take note of things I thought were important or interesting. As my notebooks accumulated, I enjoyed going back and reading entries from "this time last year" just to see what was happening and how much I'd grown or changed since then. As I grew older, I abandoned creative writing for a number of reasons. A lot of it had to do with the realization that growing up meant I was expected to read current "adult" fiction rather than old-fashioned or children's fiction, and since I didn't believe I should expose myself to the sordid and potentially indecent fancies of modern grownups, I left the world of fiction behind entirely. I wasn't ready to make the transition from Charles Dickens and Norton Juster to James Patterson, Danielle Steel and Steven King (and to be honest I'm doing pretty well as a writer without reading any of those  )My rediscovery of creative writing and my presence here on WdC is almost entirely accidental, an extended fluke in the mundane flow of my life. I had absolutely no plans or aspirations at all; I simply had a story stuck in my head which suddenly made its way out, and I desperately wanted some form of outside input on it. I suppose the one fear I had when putting myself out here last year—the first time anyone ever saw a story I've written—was not so much criticism, as simply being ignored. I struggle with this as I consider my motivation for remaining here. Am I only here to "get attention," to be admired and to foist myself on people to make me feel better about myself? Am I being of some use? Am I creating content that is rich and meaningful and wholesome, that will have lasting value after I am no longer around? Am I really a valuable member of the community? Or am I simply playing a fun game of "look at me, I'm writing stories and otherwise goofing off!" People here tell me to seek professional publication. Perhaps I should. But I have no idea where I would start or what I would write. As a kid, I always instinctively preferred the short story form; even as I wrote longer collections with the same characters, the chapters were loosely connected in a Dickensian fashion (think The Pickwick Papers) rather than being novels. These days I have confirmed my preference and affinity for short fiction. I quiver at the thought of undertaking a NANO, and marvel at the gumption of those who regularly write and/or publish whole and complete novels. My current status, then, remains that of a dabbler and a hobbyist: one who enjoys the art of creative writing and pursues it merely as a fun and rewarding pastime. I'm still trying to figure out my place in life, and my adventures on WdC have proven to be a fascinating detour. Perhaps I'll explore the possibilities of a career in creative writing, but right now I feel like there are more important things I should be doing like getting a college degree or a job. I'm not as yet sure how I would combine or balance these life choices. I feel like I'm on the edge of something big and beautiful but that it might all be a wasteful illusion. Which is a strange feeling indeed. Word Count: 784. |
Photo prompt: I've chosen what appears to be an antique print of a fire breathing dragon as my prompt. And yes, since the blog is called "Music Notes" and I'm a    fan… this will be a nonfiction post. Bear with me or perhaps, imagine dragons with me Imagine Dragons and their charismatic, big-hearted lead singer Dan Reynolds have captured my heart for the past eight years… my goodness, has it been that long already  Dan's catchy melodies and wholesome, heartfelt lyrics bring me comfort, adrenaline, and joy. I consider him a friend, insomuch as I know him deeply through his words, as well as I know any of you through your words.As "loyal friends," we've been through a lot together, and many times I feel as though we're on the same wavelength. There was a time not so long ago, however, when I came close to boycotting ID. Dan broke my heart when he divorced his wife Aja Volkman and almost immediately began dating someone else. I felt so much distaste towards him over the course of 2022 and '23, that I once ignited a firestorm among my Firebreather  friends by comparing Dan Reynolds to Donald Trump! How could you, they all demanded. Well, I'm not a slavish fan girl. I call things as I see them.My discovery of  last year provided a much-needed distraction from the gossip surrounding Dan's divorce. Since ID had released a massive double album shortly before it happened, they lay low in 2023, which helped me avoid the decision coming sooner or later: to boycott or not.When I wrote "I Almost Boycotted Imagine Dragons..." on February 20th of this year, I explained my feelings in more detail and ended with the words "I figure if Imagine Dragons ever releases new content, I'll probably not boycott it, but approach it as objectively as I can and try to see if Dan Reynolds has any art left in his soul. Perhaps I'll let you know when I find out."My moment of truth came about a month later, as ID announced the approach of a new album cycle, with the promise of a lead single very soon. I didn't know what to do. One way I dealt with my conflicted feelings was to channel how I felt about Dan Reynolds and my other favorite artist, Ryan Tedder, into a story about a band: "The Firemen" . I poured all my assumptions about Dan's arrogant attitude and Ryan's charming personality into two of the most colorful characters I'd ever created. This helped clear my head in preparation for ID's comeback.By the time the next single was known to be Eyes Closed, out April 3rd, I was ready. I even thought I might write a blog post detailing my feelings about the new song for you. Having to juggle music analysis and WdC activity was a new experience for me in April; I found myself with barely enough time, amidst real life, to write reviews, produce contest entries, and tally up everything at "WDC Dragon Vale" while running around the site as a member of the House of Mormont in "Game of Thrones" while still journaling my thoughts about ID's Eyes Closed and the accompanying music video. But I did it.The unique voice of Dan Reynolds singing the opening words of Eyes Closed was a welcome sound to my ears: "I'm back from the dead, from the back of my head, been gone and facing horrors that should never be said…" It was like hearing an old friend I hadn't met in years. Within two days, I'd wholeheartedly embraced Eyes Closed and taken it as my theme song for WdC's Game of Thrones. "Note: And when the day broke, buried in violence So..." and "Note: My honors for participating in [Link To Item ..." It was exactly the type of thing I was hoping and praying Dan would write for us as a comeback song: exaggerated, thickly metaphorical, bombastic, and "inward facing." Rather than writing an "outward facing" ditty about his new girlfriend, he wrote about turning within to do battle with the darkest depths of his own heart, a theme I know and love from his pen. Since then, the album which followed the single has come out, and I couldn't be happier with it. Loom showcases Dan's songwriting at its best, with a perfect balance of absurdly over-the-top "inward" songs that resemble video game soundtracks, and heartfelt breakup songs which bring tears to my eyes as he mourns the loss of his marriage yet looks toward the future with hope and goodwill. The one song where he allowed himself to talk about his new relationship, Nice to Meet You, is cheeky, yet innocent. At first glance, he seems to be bouncing off his ex-wife and the new woman and talking about "jealousy." But he explains that he's talking not about his ex, but about his girlfriend's best friend, who at first thought it was a bad idea for her to be dating a rock star. Eventually they all discovered Dan isn't your ordinary rock star, and everything was fine from there.In conclusion, Dan and I are "on good terms" again. His divorce was conducted as gently and tastefully as possible, his ex-wife is still his best friend, and if anything the experience of changing relationships has made him more mature in his outlook on life. I especially noticed this recently when I happened to play ID's 2015 song Hopeless Opus. I compared his dreary, self-absorbed gloom to the loyally optimistic and unselfish attitude he brings to the Loom song In Your Corner, and admired the emotional progress he's made over the years. Tell me I'm right, tell me I'm wrong But you know I've been here all along In your corner… Staying up late, playing our song You know I've been here all along In your corner… These words apply as much to me as they do to his ex; Dan has always been "in my corner," even when I doubted him. I can only be grateful for such a good "friend." Word Count: 1,039. |
You can achieve all the things you want to do, but it's much better to do it with loved ones around you; family and friends, people that you care about that can help you on the way and can celebrate you, and you can enjoy the journey. ~John Lasseter Your most significant other(s) is/are....! Write about your loved ones (furry or not). I'll write about my mom, since she's my closest relative and the loved one I spend most of my time with every day. Mom lived quite a full and stressful life before I came along: three kids, moving from New York to Chicago to Florida to Arkansas and back to Florida, pursuing her Master's while working full-time, attempting to get a law degree and failing solely for lack of funds, losing her husband at an early age to a brain aneurysm. She pushed ahead through mysterious stress-related illnesses which resembled MS or Lyme disease, but eventually ended up being granted Social Security Disability for back injuries and neurological damage. This didn't stop her from doing great things with the rest of her life. We moved from hot, smelly Florida up to Tennessee when I was six, into a ranch home on an acre of hilly land in a dinky little William Faulkner town in the middle of nowhere. When we got there, she immediately set to work improving the property: regrading the backyard to level off a piece of land for a garden and to prevent the patio from flooding, painting the front door and shutters white, painting the bathrooms, designing and installing faux accent arches to go over the windows, painting the dusky wood paneling in the family room white, even climbing up to the roof to help repair the chimney. I "helped," as much as a rather immature and scatterbrained kid could. Pretty much singlehandedly, Mom transformed our home into a nature sanctuary over the years, taming most of the acre and filling it with butterfly plants, roses, junipers, crepe myrtles and herbs. We had wild rabbits, who never seemed to eat the plants except for the occasional petunia. We had a dozen different birds, including hummingbirds, cardinals, goldfinches, chickadees, and bluebirds. Both black and yellow swallowtail butterflies, monarchs, honeybees, bumblebees, toads, snakes… all manner of helpful creatures made our yard their home, even moles (much to the dismay of our grumpy old next-door neighbor ) It was glorious—when it wasn't a big pain in the rear end to take care of.I have to admit I didn't always appreciate the amount of upkeep that yard required. The blazing summers were harsh, and we went through several years of insufferable drought followed by a year where it rained for a week straight at one point. I learned so much out there in the garden. I watched tiny seedlings grow up into big, beautiful flowers, and I was in tune with the changing seasons, as well as developing a firsthand knowledge of local weather patterns and mentally cataloging dozens of different types of plants. My mind was a virtual field guide; I could recognize the tiniest leaflet at a moment's glance. This agricultural background and personal botanical experience has stayed with me through the years. Even though I haven't planted a flower or pulled a weed in over a decade, the lessons I've learned in that garden have grown deep roots. These days, Mom spends most of her time indoors, working on arts and crafts projects. She loves miniatures and especially eighteen inch dolls of the American Girl sort, and plans to begin a YouTube channel showcasing her dollhouse creations. Often I sit down beside her with my iPad and she insists I "help" with whatever she's doing… I don't always want to, but I try my best She's also a very devout person, spending many years studying the major monotheistic religions and seeking spiritual truth. She lives even more like a nun than I do, eschewing everything related to worldly culture and striving for a deeper understanding of God and worldview. Mom is an excellent role model and example for me; I wish I could be more like her. She's hard-working, wise, kindhearted, loving and generous and intelligent. I don't know what more I can say; she's been the single greatest influence on my life so far. Word Count: 662. |
The three people who have guided and shaped my writing style the most since I've been here are Joey's So Hot He's Melting  , Max Griffin 🏳️🌈  and Jack Tyler, who is not currently a member.The first one I met is Joey, who was introduced to me by Schnujo's in Alabama  within perhaps a week of my joining. Joey has helped me immensely, providing line by line guidance and extensive editing and stylistic advice. He insists on my best possible work and is honest enough to let me know when I've done a less than stellar job on an item and where I went wrong. One afternoon we spent a few minutes brainstorming in my Google Doc together (he appeared as "Anonymous Iguana" ) That was an amusing and helpful experience.As I've progressed in my writing to place in three Official WdC Contests, I've heard less and less from him… I assume this means I don't need line by line mentorship anymore. Perhaps he's even proud of his Padawan, as he has called me. If I'm ever stumped on a story or feel like it's dragging in the dirt, I know who to turn to. The second person I met is Max Griffin. I first approached him through his CrossTimbers Review Forum, and he's been an immense help over the months. I submit all my Official Contest entries to him for a review before the end of the month. He's big on showing versus telling, and he taught me the basic trilogy of what makes good stories tick: goals, stakes and obstacles. Max's reviews are super helpful and in-depth, sharing ways to engage readers more vividly within the story and pointing out plot holes or elements in question. He is always encouraging and happy to help out, and I've followed along as he joined forces with Allan Charles  to create the Short Fiction Authors Roundtable, where writers can exchange feedback on each other's works in a safe space. We can even share things with publishing potential there.The final person I've met here who's left a lasting impression on me is Jack Tyler. He's a successful published author who has been intermittently present on WdC for many years. I met him almost as soon as he rejoined in September of 2023, when he chose "The Name’s Daisy" as one of the first stories he reviewed.We quickly became good buddies, and he was always ready to read and review my stories with warm and helpful advice. I was humbled to receive five stars and a corresponding award from Jack on many items over the months, which he proudly gathered into his Hall of Fame with other stories he'd found. Between our friendship, his feedback and my reading and reviewing of his posted stories, I got to know him quite well. He was one of the few authors here whom I fully trusted… only meaning that his old-fashioned writing style synced perfectly with my fussbudget preferences. He knows how to approach a grim subject tastefully and realistically. I was quite saddened when Jack decided to leave WdC once more this July, but he bequeathed me with a treasured gift before he did: the complete draft manuscript of one of his crime novels. I'd admired the sample he posted briefly here, and expressed dismay that I wouldn't get to find out what happened next. Whenever I write an exciting drama, I remember him and say fondly, "I bet Jack would love this story." Someday when he returns to WdC, we'll catch up on everything and resume our friendship where it left off. In the meantime, check out his books on Amazon! Word Count: 607. |
| Tell us about an earthshaking Life-or-Death situation in your life. What happened, how did it change you, if at all? My life has been pretty tame by most standards, actually. I've never been seriously ill or injured, I've never experienced real abuse or violence, and I've always had a loving mother who worked extremely hard to support me and keep me safe. Plus, I don't engage in risky behavior and generally live like a nerdy nun. Despite all this, I'm not as nice of a person as you would expect, being honestly rather ornery and cynical, a bit of a lone wolf. I should remember to count my blessings and seek to cultivate a sense of gratitude for what I've been given so far. Perhaps what threw me into the worst turmoil of my life, very nearly stealing away my sense of identity, was the Covid-19 pandemic in 2020. It was a complex combination of factors which came together to make a situation I had no control over. I'll try to break it down for you as well as I can. In 2019 I had a job, my first one, at a charity work project, supposedly Christian. I was delighted with it and excelled in my duties. It all seemed to be working out well, and I had hopes of making a fairly decent amount of money and developing my skills to move on to something better. Then the pandemic showed up, and everything went south from there. The project shut down for six weeks, and when it resumed, my position was tenuous. The boss was extremely stressful to deal with, and it was up to him to assign work days each week as he saw fit. The more I needed work, the less likely he gave me any. The workplace trounced health regulations: masks were rarely or poorly worn, people didn't observe social distancing, and the new workroom was overcrowded, with little air conditioning or ventilation. But I stuck it out, not knowing what else to do. I became more and more anxious and obsessed with my job over the course of 2020, spending hours calculating work days and figuring out ways to deal with the boss as he encouraged a culture which grew steadily more and more toxic. I overworked myself in a high-risk environment. The pay was based on effort, and being a strongly competitive sort, I drove myself to outperform all others in an attempt to earn enough money to get somewhere. When I got home each day, I was too exhausted to do anything constructive with my free time. Many days I would hit the pillow immediately and black out for a couple hours. The solitary, relaxing, interconnected hobbies I once pursued went down the drain: journaling, music, photography, digital art. All I had the energy to do was deaden my brain by scrolling endlessly through Twitter, hanging out with people I had nothing in common with. The mindless, repetitive, strenuous quality of my job, combined with the stress of the pandemic and the irrational, overbearing attitude of my boss, brought me the closest I've ever been to a nervous breakdown. My creative power disappeared, and my mental abilities deteriorated until I quite literally couldn't put two sentences together coherently. My records from those days document my mental decline; the failed attempts at communicating with old penpals, the photo gallery littered with dreary screenshots and disorganized work-related pictures, the hastily scribbled chains of random, undated notes that should have been journal entries and never were. Finally, things reached a breaking point. I realized the harder I tried to work there, the less I was getting out of it. The situation was a trap, holding me back from what I wanted to do. I was turning into an empty-headed, stressed-out, restless idiot, manipulated by a boss who was anything but Christian, spending my days doing menial labor in an incredibly noisy environment drenched in distasteful music which drowned out any possibility of coherent thought. What settled the matter is when the boss and his wife blatantly flouted national guidelines by hightailing it a thousand miles across the country to Ohio for Christmas and came back with Covid. They shut the place down again for several weeks, leaving me in a lurch. When one employee, a friend of mine, died of Covid, I knew I'd better quit before I lost myself in the sickness sweeping through. As it was, I'd already lost most of my identity. By March of 2021, I was out of there. I spent the rest of the year putting my scattered brain back together, slowly reallocating my free time away from Twitter and other useless things. It helped that my two favorite artists, Imagine Dragons and OneRepublic, both made their post-Covid comeback that month, releasing singles which gave me something to get excited about. ID's Follow You and Cutthroat and 1R's Run sparked my weary imagination, inspiring me to write, observe, and create art. By the time their respective albums Mercury Act 1 and Human dropped in early autumn, I was feeling more like myself again: artsy, thoughtful, journaling extensively about everything I could think of, dabbling in various forms of digital art, and perfecting my handwriting by transcribing poetry and song lyrics. Thus closed the strangest chapter of my life so far: my pandemic experience. These days, my brain is more active than ever before, and I'm quite handy with my words as I craft stories, poetry and blog entries such as this one. I'm still looking for a job I can be passionate about that won't take over my brain, but at least I can think straight in the meantime. I'm grateful I didn't catch Covid during that trying time. Word Count: 939. |
| Tell us about your fondness for WdC. What makes this a wonderful place for writers? Why are you (still) here? You've asked me a question which I could go on at length about… in February '24, I wrote the nearly 5,000 word "My WdC Story" as a tribute to my adventures here. A lot has happened since then, and it seems like the kind of story I'll have to write a yearly sequel to The reason why WdC is a wonderful place for writers is mainly one: the people. From top to bottom, from StoryMaster and StoryMistress to the Newbies, the vast majority of people who are here have good intentions and desire to contribute meaningful feedback, stories, poetry, and other works of words. From my very first day here, I've found it to be a highly interactive site, encouraging interpersonal conversation and the exchange of reviews and mentorship. It isn't simply a place to post your work: it's a place to embark on a lifelong journey of developing your writing skills, while at the same time forming lasting relationships with friends from around the globe. The threshold of participation is low for those who can make the investment of time and effort; any promising Newbies are quickly given upgraded memberships from generous fellow members, and I can proudly attest to the fact that one need not pay a single penny of real money to be a full-fledged and well-respected author with complete access to resources and contests. On a more serious and thoughtful note, the question "why am I still here" is one I've personally wrestled with quite recently. As one who involves myself in endless activities and likes to interact with almost everyone I meet, I've stumbled into several awkward and heartbreaking situations here lately. Peculiarly, the various "dramas" only unfolded precisely after my 1st Anniversary celebration was over and I was no longer a Newbie. It seems my motives are being tested; I'm preparing for my journey to becoming a mature and circumspect elder member who is committed for the long haul. If any of the things which I've dealt with recently had happened to me as a Newbie, I probably wouldn't still be here. Basically, I'm here because I love WdC: I love the people, the stories, the shared community. I love the way it provides an escape from the harshness and judgment of the real world and is a safe space for me to be myself: warts, weirdness, quirky fandoms and all. I'm dedicated to gathering my set of four weekly seven-day achievement badges. And I'll admit I treat WdC as a social media site where I struggle to hold myself back from checking in about a million times a day on my phone or hovering around the site when I'm on my iPad! There is always something exciting to do, a project to participate in, a contest entry to work on, a newbie to advise, perhaps a weary friend to offer a shoulder to lean on. As a sheltered introvert still trying to figure out what to do with myself, WdC is the community I was always afraid to have in real life. It challenges me, encourages me to treat others with kindness and respect, introduces me to a diverse network of people, gives me something to look forward to, and has taught me how to plan and multitask. I'm here because I believe it's good for me. I hope Writing.com continues to be a wonderful place for writers for many years to come. Word Count: 574. |
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(My German teacher called that missing the point (with which she always started her commentary under my "A"s.
, BUT made me curious enough to look up the song as I like at least OneRepublic & Imagine Dragons of the mentioned musicians. 
If I trampled on toes, then SORRY.
