I’ve invited you in (like the little vampires you are), so I suppose I’ll give you the tour. Now everyone hold hands with your tour buddy. Don’t want anyone getting lost.
Where you are right now is my Blog page. This is where I blog. What will I blog about? Oh, you know, bloggy things. You say the word over and over and it starts to lose all meaning, doesn’t it? Blog, blog, blog, blog. Sounds like an embarrassing bodily function. “And then Chet blogged all over the maid of honor. I could have died!” I suppose writing can feel like an embarrassing bodily function at times. Some words spring forth like toadstools after a rain, organic and vibrant and glistening with promise. Other words are secreted, expectorated on the page and are only suitable for reading by a patient relative or a medical professional. I hope this page will serve as loamy soil and not a wad of kleenex.
If you look to the left you will see my Home page. There is nothing there right now but a barely coherent metaphor involving red wine and me introducing myself as a writer. I don’t do that at parties, by the way. “Hello, my name is Amy and I’m a writer. Could you point me toward the wine?” I suppose I could; there isn’t any test you have to pass or license you need to apply for to be a writer. You just have to write. Now to be able to say you are a professional writer, that is a whole ‘nother ball of yarn. One I hope to bat around like a carefree kitten in the future. Which brings us to the next page on our tour . . .
Live Nude Words. As I’m sure some of you are disappointed to discover, there is no nudity on this page. False advertising, I know, but I gotta get people in the door somehow. This is where I will shill my syllables, peddle my pages like the vitamin D deprived, wine-soaked word whore that I am. There isn’t much to show at the moment, just a bit of ankle, a flash of shoulder, but I hope to have a full body of work on display in the future. All the pieces for a full monty joke are in there somewhere.
While I may not have much in the way of wares, I do have friends with books for sale. This brings us to the Pimpin’ page where you’ll find links to my writer friends’ websites so you can stalk them mercilessly. Between them, you are bound to find something that tickles your fancy: Young Adult, Urban Fantasy, Gay Romance, Humorous Memoir. Unless your fancy isn’t ticklish, that is. Have you tried behind the knees?
Well, that concludes our little tour. I see a couple of you lost your buddies. No, you can’t go back and look for them. They belong to my website now. Don’t worry, I will keep them safe and will teach them how to serve me. You may hear them from time to time, scuttling about in the walls, chittering to each other in a pidgin language even I don’t fully understand. And if you see a thin, translucent hand beckon to you from the shadows, back away slowly towards the light. Because no matter how much I feed my precious pets, they are always so very hungry.
It was safe, knowing those gems of humor and horror were tucked away in a safe place where I could visit them. They brought me many hours of delight. I will trust you (and the Cloud) to keep them warm and fed until I can see them again.
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I will always keep them safe. They are my offspring.
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This is the Amy I’ve desperately missed. Your prose rolls from the keyboard onto my eyes like waves of sypilitic midgets dressed like blow-up sumo wrestlers.
Throw in some cardboard robots and zombies to make your conquest of the written word complete! Be a ruthless and terrible verb queen, the known world will crumble in terror at your feet.
Rock On!
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Your comment started off awesome and then got better the more I read. Thank you so much!
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I was eating plain yogurt when reading the first full paragraph. Um. I may have gagged a little. The thought of the wad of kleenex made me “blog”.
That said, you have a way with words, Amy. I saw the toadstools, felt the bodily function. Wait. What?
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Plain yogurt would be enough to make be “blog” by itself. Blech.
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Wait. I got lost at “nude”.
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You’re in good company.
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