When I was eight, I published my first newspaper. I sold every copy!
My parents bought all three copies.
I carefully printed pithy stories about my older brothers, our dog and my mean Second grade teacher.
I used a Ticonderoga pencil #2 and a Big Chief Tablet.
I have been writing – often and passionately – ever since.
A star was born
I am famous for grocery lists, newsletters, Letters to the Editor and for my Dating at 50 bit for The New York Times “Modern Love.”
I know my limits
I’ve never met a writing challenge I couldn’t resist: Sonnet of the week, Haiku of the Day, Limericks for St Patrick’s Day, The Month Python Christmas Carols redux…
WordPress serves a challenge over the net several times day – and I am there. I am all over it.
My love affair with Twitter started a year ago.
A friend suggested my business as a personal assistant would shoot into the sales stratosphere with a daily infusion of Twitter.
With guarded optimism, fueled by the mantra “everyone else is doing it”, I took the first step and clicked the magic green box: Get Started Join. Voila! I was in the game and all I had to do was start my English major engine and commence with copy.
Like a virtual virgin, I stumbled and stuttered. Reminiscent of a first date: it was slow and awkward. I vacillated between gushing sentences and a haiku-severe short style. Eventually, I hit my stride. I entered the shallow end of the Twitter pool and made tiny waves – twaves? Each day I would punch in a pithy prose describing my various gigs with my vast assortment of clients:
Hired Michael Angelo wannaba be to paint Sister’s chapel at Mercy convent. Not a masterpiece, but was hired to get entire building power washed. Really cleaning up.
Heroine and Heroin?
Before I knew it, I was Tweeting all day long. People loved me! My followers multiplied – I spent, nay – wasted hours cultivating and contributing. I was hooked.
I will spare you the sordid details of detox,Twitter sobriety and kicking the habit.
All this to say- I’ve got a Writing Program and Serenity Prayer – well over 140 characters= and, dude, I don’t Tweet.