A Presence on the Web

/ Lisa / 3 Comments

I attended a seminar at the Northwest Book Fest about websites. The speaker said a website is an author’s home out in the internet, and a place where the author has control and doesn’t have to worry about a host disappearing or changing rules. I understand all of that, plus all his other points.

When I like an author, I look them up online and visit their website just to get a feel for who they are. I rarely purchase books directly from their websites, and should probably rethink that, to keep funds local rather than automatically going to Amazon. Some of those sites actually add to my interest in purchasing a book. Some websites are awful, and leave me thinking if the author can’t put more effort in than that, why should I bother to buy? Especially if it’s an author that I haven’t read yet. That always makes me feel guilty, rather like judging a person by their appearance, which I know better than to do.

As I look at websites by authors, I realize the ones I like are the ones that feel like visiting a friend, a place to hang out, a place with interesting things to read. The ones I don’t like are the ones that simply shout ‘Buy my book! Now!’

I attempted a website once. As far as I know, it’s floating around out there somewhere, lonely and forgotten. Why? Because I paid someone I knew $200 to build it for me, and when I tried to research how to optimize search engine results, realized I didn’t own the domain name and so couldn’t do any work or make any changes. When I went back to the web builder, she never responded to any of my queries. A failed attempt and a learning experience.

Now I’m debating the merits of having a professional website built. By a reputable company, with options for continuing to work with me after the site is built, for doing research and search engine optimization for me, and so on. Starting at around $6,000. Those of you who know me, know I am cheap. Hence the $200 website. And look where that got me. Yet I’m torn.

Are websites really that valuable? Are they as necessary as people believe, to get your name and work out there? Do you, as readers and authors, look at author websites? I know one fellow author doesn’t feel websites are valuable, but then her blog has her name as a title, so people can find her if they type in her name. This blog doesn’t have my name on it, so there’s no ‘home’. But I like the name of my blog and don’t want to change it.

Ah, the dilemma. Ah, the cost.

A Nod to Words

/ Lisa / 5 Comments

I read three blog posts today that got me thinking so I thought I’d share. I tried adding live links but couldn’t make it work (I’ll have to ask the teenager).

Terri Ponce, at http://www.terriponce.com talked about how she tried a different writing process, and it failed. That made me think about all the books on writing out there, that tell writers they have to write the exact same way as the author if they want to succeed. And how wrong that is. Creativity is unique and so is the process that creates that work of art. Luckily, since I simply cannot outline.

Lisa, over at http://www.satsumabug.com has a post about trying her hand at abstract painting. What was interesting to me, is how those attempts impacted the portrait she then followed up with. That got me thinking about how sometimes, if we step out of our normal habits and try something alien to our creative process, in the long run it can help us see our process clearer, see what works for us (or doesn’t work as in Terri’s example), and can even free us to do better.

If we try different things, we see our own creativity clearer.

And then, another Lisa, at http://www.lisaakramer.com had interesting thoughts on mourning celebrities, which led into a great discussion on grief and mourning and letting go. This was another post that left me thinking after I had finished reading her words. Especially about all the things we have to let go of, physically and emotionally, whether it’s a person, a process, a home. Do we mourn because that person or object is gone, or do we mourn selfishly, because they are no longer with us?

It is absolutely amazing to me how the internet has opened up exposure to all these wonderful people out there, with their wisdom and talents and humor. Much more so than the pen-pals of my youth! It never fails that, when I read a post by these bloggers I follow, that I’m left with little gems to hold and consider throughout the rest of the day.

Thank you.

Dumping Ground

/ Lisa / 7 Comments

Guess my son isn’t as ready for independence as he thinks he is. Here’s a funny story for you.

He and I did a dump run recently. We got there moments before the dump closed. This place is out in the woods, with chain link fence all around it, and automated gates. So picture the containers in this oasis of a couple spotlights, surrounded by the deep dark you find in woods at night. I told my son to hop out, drop the tailgate, and back me to the edge. Then said, jokingly, we need to hurry so we don’t get locked in. Off goes my newly – eighteen year old, wanting – to – be – an – adult. And comes right back.

“Mom, there’s a guy in there!”

“What?”

“There’s a guy in there!”

“What do you mean, a body?”

“No, a guy!”

And then he just stands there. Waiting for me to fix it.

I get out of the truck, walk back, and sure enough, in the spotlight, I see an older, scruffy man down in the container. He has a head lamp and a hand truck. He climbs out, hauling the hand truck, and walks away. No eye contact, no words. I said, ‘you don’t have to leave on our account; I just don’t want to whack you tossing stuff’ but no response. He walked into the dark shadows and presumably climbed the fence as there were no gates where he went.

Later, I laughed, thinking about how grown up my son wants to be, and yet how he still balances on that line of ‘mom will fix things’.

But then the writing brain took over the parental brain. What if there had been a body in there? What could the man have been looking for? I know, probably scrap metal, but still, what if it was something important? What would that important thing be, to send one out in the dark with just a headlamp? Where did he come from? Where did he go? Obviously out into the woods, but from there, where? And why?

I’m now imagining all sorts of scenarios, and I wish I’d asked him for his story. Maybe it’s mundane and he’s just a dumpster diver. But maybe it’s a Story.