#This! A writer’s Social Media Friend

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hashtags

Check out John McCarthy’s posts & other publications and follow @JMcCarthyEdS or Subscribe for news about his new instructional book coming in early 2017.

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I like to write at my favorite watering hole: Starbucks. The place might vary but the “feel” is the same. So much so, that every Starbucks I spend time in is like a reflective copy of “the one” I visit in the multidimensional worlds. It just so happened that I ran into one of my writer friends and fellow Deadwood Writer, Diana Hirsch @dianahirsch (See her publications at http://dwhirsch.com). She also seems to live and travel among Starbucks, but usually in different dimensional paths than me. Her travels are well recorded. What makes mentioning her in this particular post serendipitous is that Diana does great work with social media marketing regarding her publications and life as an author.

An author is metaphorically and in reality an independent business. Self promotion is integral to their making a living. One author once recruited me to be her publicist for a novel. She said, “I need you to promote my book so that I can focus on writing my next book. I only want to write, not do the promotional work.” I gently turned her down. There is no better promoter than the author. Yet, I understand her feelings as the process for marketing is daunting. Where to start? How do you get the word out? Hashtags is one answer.

In social media, hashtags (or the # pound sign) represents categories for conversation. People follow the ones that represents their interests. For example, I follow:

#2Write

#AmWriting

#Dwriters

Here is a sample from Caitlin Muir “44 essential twitter hashtags every author should know”

#AmEditing

#WordCount

#WriterWednesday

#WritersLife

#YALitChat

#LitChat

#MemoirChat

#BookMarket

#ScriptChat

#PoetTues

#ZineChat

#WritingParty

#IndieAuthors

#WriteChat

#NaNoWriMo

#PBLitChat

Hashtags work with many social media tools such as Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook. Search for them and follow the conversations. When you are ready, reply back or share the posts in your social media of choice.

For authors looking to promote their published work, add hashtags to a social media post. That way, those who follow the hashtag will see your post. Share the post 3 times in a week for 3 weeks. Use different social media tools to get out the word.

Not using hashtags is like shouting in a dark auditorium. You have no idea who heard you, nor if anyone is around. A hashtag lights of the room and ensures that all who are listening (to the hashtag) gets the message.

Upcoming Posts This Month

  • June 2: Erica Stensrud – Do We Remember?
    Here is a special post to honor the men and women who enlist. They are all important and should be remembered. Read the first from Erica, a new voice, who we hope to see more posts in the future.
  • June 5: Jeanette A – Fallout 3: WTF Moments
    Ever played the games Fallout 3 or Fallout Vegas? Here’s a unique look at the game by a writer who plays the games in an unorthodox and successful way.
  • June 6: Barbara Pattee – The Trip of a Lifetime: Australia and New Zealand – Part 2
    The adventures continue as Barbara regales us on her amazing travel halfway across the globe from home.
  • June 8: Karen Kittrell – Give it to me straight: Fates and furies, Part 1 of 3
    Sequential plots, fractured plots, and story arc – Karen has it all in this deconstruction of a novel that gives insights into author craft. Read alongside her with a critical author’s eye.
  • June 15: Jon Reed – Bones
    Jon has the gift to make a true story about a fractured bone compelling and humorous. Become drawn into his latest personal adventure.
  • June 18: Diana Hirsch – @dianahirsch – Coffeeshop Chronicles
    Follow the monthly caffeinated escapades and explore life, opinions and values through coffeeshops, even if you’re a tea drinker.  You never know.
  • June 21: Claire Murray – Chautauqua
    It begins by asking what do you think when you hear the name Chautauqua, Chautauqua, New York? It talks about The Chautauqua being an adult educational experience in the 18th and 19th centuries and how Road Scholar has continued that tradition. It ends by agreeing with Theodore Roosevelt that it is “the most American thing in America”.
  • June 24: Sue Remisiewicz – @SueRemi – Lunch With a Stranger
    Will a casual encounter during lunch become something more for Alice? Find out in this new piece of flash fiction.

 

 

Fine Dining

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2016-05 PicFor centuries I’ve lain buried, engulfed in sand. Tricked by tribesmen and trapped so deeply I cannot move. At first, I survived by eating the bugs and crawlers that were able to dig that far down. Barely maintaining my massive bulk, across ages, with contemptible morsels, I crave a hearty meal. Human flesh to eat and blood to drink.

My heart leapt the day muffled sound came through the sand. Silence had reigned for so long I forgot I possessed the sense of hearing. I dared to think the noise signaled that I would soon be released from my prison. Instead, the sound teased me by growing louder then softer, over and over again for decades. Despair consumed me till I realized that even when the noise receded, the sound remained stronger than before. After that, the ebb and flow of the noise stoked my thirst for revenge. So I waited.

Eventually the sand around me began to change temperature. I no longer sat in constant cold. I imagined the sun rising when the sand warmed then setting as the sand cooled. Larger creatures, crabs and sand worms, made their way to me. Better meals to boost my strength. Still, I longed to suck on the corpse of one of the warriors who put me here.

More intense and more often than I remember, hurricanes have torn at the sand above me. Today, I sense another storm starting. The sound of the wind builds. I feel the pounding of the rain. The storm dredges the sand. I am near the surface now, but still too confined to move. I feel air upon one of the spines protruding from my back. Oh glorious! With a few more rushes of wind, the rain falls directly on my skin. The wind and rain stop. No! I weep in anguish.

An hour passes. The wind picks up again with more ferocity than before. My snout escapes and my head breaks through the sand. The storm scrapes across my long front limbs. Though my hind limbs remain buried, I rejoice in the freedom I have gained.

I am weak from hunger, but that will change. My camouflage is exquisite. I look like nothing more than driftwood washed up on the shore. I will rest until someone comes to me. After all, the best meals are worth the wait.

Breakfast in Americastan

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burned eggs and toastServing up Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton for President this November is like your waiter asking if you’d prefer cold, runny eggs for breakfast, or yesterday’s burnt toast. The only other thing on the menu is not voting for a president, and that is even less appetizing.

But Mr. Trump’s interruptive, bombastic, New York, New York-style might be just what The People need in Washington, DC right now. The number one job of our next POTUS must be to end the gridlock in Washington, and to finally hold all elected officials to a higher standard. Like their sworn duty to work for the people who elected them instead of the lobbyists who made them millionaires. Maybe that’s not “old-money” billionaire Trump, who put his own money where his big mouth is to win his party’s nomination. But it is certainly not “new-money” millionaire Clinton who speaks privately out of one side of her mouth and publicly out of the other side. So, if it’s between cold, runny eggs and yesterday’s burnt toast anyway, here are two ducks Donald could get in a row to earn my vote.

First, my main concern is stopping the Republican party from further weakening women’s rights. Mr. Trump has waxed and waned on this issue, so he could decide to put a stop to it. His wife and daughter might help. They are both powerful women in their own right, and they have his ear.

Some Republican legislators are trying to enact demeaning, overbearing and purposefully humiliating laws on young women. Laws that are based on pseudo-science and someone else’s religious convictions. It is hard for me to distinguish the difference between a Turban and a Yamaka, a Habit and a Hijab, when I see baseless laws trampling the First Amendment. The Supreme Court – if not Mr. Trump – must stop the Republican Party’s religious right from trying to run the country from the pulpit. Otherwise, I fear it will soon be breakfast in Americastan.

Abortion is a hard decision for any would-be parent, a decision they will live with for the rest of their lives. I doubt if it is ever made lightly. But it is a decision that should be debated by family, not legislators, behind closed doors, not in open court. And the medical community must be free to dismiss all legislative-induced, pseudo-science.

If Trump says he’ll leave all personal decisions to the person, I’m voting for him. If not, Hillary has already said she is pro-life. I’d rather four more years of gridlock than see women lose their right to self-determination.

Second, as long as Trump is cutting his own Republican cloth, this summer would also be a good time to announce he will repeal the federal criminal laws on marijuana.

It is way past time to remove marijuana from its Schedule 1 status, let the medical field conduct proper research on it, and let adults smoke it recreationally. The marijuana laws have done more harm to people than the product ever could. A lot of countries are finally realizing this, but there are over 100,000 Americans, most of them young, who are serving pot-only related sentences, and thousands of more lives have been diminished because of pot-related felonies. President Obama is trying to rectify as much as he can. He commuted another 58 such sentences earlier this month including 18 who were serving life. He’s now commuted 306 sentences while in office, more than the previous six presidents combined.

On April 20th, the Prime Minister of Canada introduced a law to decriminalize pot by next year. Two days later, the President of Mexico proposed new laws to decriminalize possession of under an ounce. It’s high time America did, too.

All comments welcomed.

 

Memory?

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Memory has always fascinated me. Why do I remember some things and forget others?

Whenever I hear “Bring Flowers of the Rarest”* from Queen of the May, I’m transported back in time to my nine-year-old self, wearing my white communion dress and walking in procession down the aisle of St. Thomas the Apostle Church in San Francisco. The sun is shining, a cool breeze is blowing in from the ocean and my family is watching. I’m worried if the dress is too short because my Mom told me this is the last year I could wear it, as I’d grown so tall.

Why do I remember this scene so clearly, but can’t recall much else about that year? And though I was in that same procession every year I was in grammar school, I hardly remember the other ones.

When my grandson was first learning to drive, his parents sent him to a Drivers’ Ed class. Just hearing about it brought back the memory of my first accident.

Our house was on a flat, dead end street and the blue Kaiser was parked in front. I wanted to practice putting in the clutch and shifting the gears. I didn’t have the keys because I hadn’t gotten to the actual driving part of the class yet.

claire car

After mentally rehearsing what I was going to do, I released the parking brake, put the car in neutral and got ready to shift into first. The car suddenly rolled back a few feet and hit the car behind. My first car accident and I hadn’t even turned the ignition on!

I hadn’t thought about this in YEARS! Yet, in that moment I remembered every detail as if it was happening right now.

This is what has always fascinated me about memory. A song, a chance comment by someone, and I’m in a movie of my own life, remembering everything. But other times, when I try to remember, I can’t.

Recently I heard of an adult education class on memory. I immediately signed up. The required reading, before class starts, is White Gloves: How We Create Ourselves Through Memory** by John Kotre. I just finished reading it.

claires old photo

Fascinating book! He talks a lot about how memory works and the different types of memory. I was surprised to find out that over time, we can change our memories. This is why different people, present at the same event, can recall the situation very differently. That’s why eye-witnesses in court cases can be so unreliable.

Class starts Tuesday!!!

*Bring Flowers of the Rarest is a well-known Marian hymn written by Mary E. Walsh. It was published as the “Crowning Hymn” in the Wreath of Mary 1871/1883 and later in St. Basil’s hymnal (1889). 

**White Gloves: How We Create Ourselves Through Memory by John Kotre, W.W. Norton & Company, New York, London, 1996

 

 

Coffee Shop Chronicles: Overheard Conversations

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FullSizeRender (2)Starbucks

Livonia, MI

Have you ever just sat in a coffee shop and listened to conversations?

This can be done anywhere really: in a park, on a bus, at a college football game, a kids’ softball game, in a lunchroom, at your coworker next cubicle over.  Anywhere.  What does that say about them?

I’ve listened everywhere, partially because of boredom, partially out of curiosity.  Dad always enjoyed being in the Now, and that’s why I’ve always enjoyed people-watching and people-listening.

I’m sipping my Clover Reserve coffee, the West Java Preanger while it’s still available. What are people saying here, today?

What’s This Song?

A guy finishes humming and says, “Do you know what that’s from?” The woman with him is shaking her head.  “It’s from the movie the Officer and…the one with Richard Gere.”

ME:  It’s An Officer and a Gentleman, geez.  You don’t even know the title?  I didn’t hear that tune in it at all.  Maybe you should try harder.  Are you trying to impress this girl, like on a date, or is she a friend who tolerates you?  Does she know movies?  Does she care?  She just tapped some sugar into her coffee and walked away.  You, you’re dumping about…is that four or five packets of sugar…in your coffee?  You’re both staying here, and you have to-go cups?  Don’t you see my for-here mug beside you as I mix my Splenda and steamed 2% milk?  I’m saving a cardboard tree.  You’re drinking that coffee black.  Ugh.

A Guy and His Buddy

A guy walks in, shakes his buddy’s hand.  “Free car?” the guy says, a smile in his voice.  I don’t hear his buddy’s response, but the guy says to him, “You can get a car for a reasonable price of a truck.”

ME: Sounds like buddy’s in a world of trouble.  Is he poor?  Is he desperate?  Why does he want a truck, or is that something the guy wants?  I’m thinking pickup truck–I mean, what else is there?–but buddy’s got a jean jacket and a laptop.  He doesn’t look the truck type.  The other guy, he has that sauntering attitude around his beefy self.  I could see him wanting a truck but stuck driving daddy’s Caddy.  Or am I just thinking of my ex-boyfriend’s lawyer-to-be friend from those oh-so-many years ago?

About Bill

“I went to Bill’s class on Friday, and it wasn’t filled.”

ME:  Is he a college student?  Probably, since it’s around 1:30 pm.  That’s too early for high school to be out.  What does Bill teach, and why isn’t he filling up his classroom?  Does the girl he’s talking to know the class or Bill?  Is he not a popular teacher?  Could it be that the subject isn’t fun?  Does the class happen at an awkward time?  As a college student, I couldn’t handle morning classes.  The 9:00 am ones were tolerable, but the 8:00 am classes were too much, too early.  At least you’re there to support your friend.

What does this say about me and interpreting them?  Some of this stuff is so perfect that, as the cliché goes, I couldn’t write or make up this stuff.

I feel a little jealous.  I’m left out of the loop.  Something cool is going on, and I’m not a part of it.  Why am I not a part of it all?  Maybe that comes from being picked last for sports teams in grade school.

If I was curious before, I’m more curious now.  There’s the context behind the above comments, and I’d love to know more about them.

Listen.