Tag Archive | literature

Has WordPress turned into Wordpucky or is it ME … I wish I knew

 I’m back. I think I am. I’m not sure. The reason you haven’t seen any posts on this blog is I haven’t been able to gain access to it to write something. Dealing with any of these Internet colossus organizations is frustrating. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! The Geezer is just as frustrated as I am. He has his own blog and he’s suffering the same fate. We finally found a tortuous method of getting a post on our own blogs. It isn’t right, but…. The worst thing is we can’t get in touch with anybody to find out if it’s us or them. It happened around the time of one of the up-date “improvements” these organizations do when THEY see fit. Several of them I use have improved the “system” (jokingly stated) to the point I just about can’t use them anymore. Is anybody else frustrated?

I guess you can chalk this post up to venting. It’s kind of like barking at the moon. You do it. You know it’s foolish and will accomplish nothing. But, you do it anyway.

I’ll end with some TRULY GREAT NEWS for authors, writers, and writer-want-to-be’s in the southwest Florida area (That area from Sarasota to Marco Island and inland across the state.). ABC Books 4 Children and Adults is sponsoring a full-scale writers conference in April 2019 (Saturday the 13th). It’s titled, “The Hudson comes to the Peace” (Referring to rivers in each area) and will feature 16 of New York’s top agents and editors. The theme is possibilities. That’s all the many ways you can improve your writing talent by working with newspapers, magazines, TV, electronic media and many more. It’s a full day of education that is available at a fraction of the cost of equivalent events in other venues.


The Geezer did it again! I knew something important was happening. Trying to get to the computer to blog has been difficult, if not impossible, for last month. And, the Geezer has been as jumpy as a frog on a griddle. Then he disappeared for four days, leaving me bored…my only entertainment was to do the exact opposite of whatever the dog-sitter ask me.

When he arrived back home, he had a smile engraved on his mug that made the Cheshire Cat’s look inconspicuous. I didn’t have to ask why.

“Guess what, Sandy, ” he babbled, “I won the FWA writing contest.”

“Congratulations”, I volunteered. “What did you win?” Was FWA an acronym for Funky Wombats’ Alliance? I couldn’t remember.

The Geezer got that self-important, smug smile he wears when he believes he’s achieved some important milestone. Like remembering where he stored his Viagra.

“I won the runner-up Royal Palm Literary Award,” he strongly enunciated the last for words, “for my manuscript for Francis’ Flowers. It’s a suspense/thriller genre novel.”

“Congratulations, again,” I remembered…Florida Writers Association, not Funky Wombats.

As I watched him, the Geezer’s head began swelling like a hot air balloon on steroids. “And…and… guess what?”

“What? I complied.”

His chest swelled. “My literary/mainstream  manuscript for my novel, The Bully Route Home won,” the Geezer was drawing it out, dramatizing his announcement like a lady telling her husband she was pregnant, “first place?”

“A big congratulations! ” I said, The old boy was soaking up the praise like a bar sponge sucking up a spilled drink.  I watched as the hot air building inside him lifted him skywards.

“DL… DL… where are you?  Mrs. G called.

“I’m in the bedroom, dear.”

“Come take the trash out.”

The hot air balloon and the Geezer deflated.