Blogging, Opinions, Comments AND the Saga

This month I've been blogging for a year. Blogging is a solitary endeavor. Even when there is a group blog with multiple participants, it's still the individual who sits down at the computer and writes something.

After a year, I still have no idea why one post will touch people or elicit a slew of comments and another will not. I'm usually surprised by the blogs that attract the comments. Often they are really not blogs that I thought a lot about, but rather just things that come to me when I sit down at the computer and put my hands on the keyboard, hoping that the words will appear.

Blogging is a true strip show in public. Your mind and soul hang out there for all to see. Whether your readers reject it or not is a chance that the writer takes everyday. Some days there is one comment. Some there are more. Truthfully, there might be tons of lurkers out there that read without ever leaving a comment. I have no way of knowing. No way of knowing if I touched those readers or perhaps they have all the interest they would have if they were reading their horoscope or a chinese fortune cookie.

Clearly, I am not a controversial writer. I've never stirred my readers to debate or protest--never moved them to rise up in a storm of heated opinions or rebuttal. Alas, it appears that I am that bane of the erotic romance... Vanilla.

Perhaps in 2008, I will find my kinkier voice and jazz things up a bit. Probably not. I can't seem to be kinky. Although perhaps I'm the only blogger out there that discussed public toilets... condoms... and jails. Some subjects are a cry from the heart.

In the meantime, I face this new year with bated breath (I always wanted to use that in a sentence) full of hope, promise, and enthusiasm. What will the year bring? Another were-tick story? Another episode of the steamy spuds? More pictures of the cat? Who knows? I certainly don't so let us check out the Saga and see where we landed this time...


Amarinda left us with...
“I need help.” He looked from Emmeline to Zoltan. “I have to get to River City.”

“Why?” Zoltan asked suspiciously.

“Because there’s trouble in River City.”

Of course there is...
“Trouble?” Emmeline rolled her eyes. “What kind of trouble?”

“Probably the kind that begins with a capital T,” Zoltan observed dryly. “What other kind is there?”

“The woman kind.” Emmeline stalked back down the trail, leaving the men behind. She needed to have words with the old woman.

Zoltan had no intention of being left behind. He rushed after her with Pete pounding hard on his heels. “Wait for me!” Pete panted as he jogged to keep up. “Where are we going?”

“After her. If you’re smart, you never want to let her get too far ahead. She had a way of disappearing.” Zoltan zipped through the doorway of the old woman’s hut and slid to a halt, staring at Emmeline in amazement. Pete was moving too fast and too close to stop before he ran into Zoltan. The two men tumbled to the floor in a jumble of milling legs and arms.

By the time they sorted themselves out, Emmeline was gone in a puff of smoke, taking the Tourmaline Chalice with her and the old woman lay dead on the floor. Zoltan sat up and knuckled his eyes in despair. “Now we’ll never find her!”

Pete clambered to his feet, brushed the dust off his pink suit and then offered Zoltan his hand. “Sure we’ll find her. I have her peeler. Every peeler it tuned to the owner. All we have to do is twist this little jewel here and it’ll take us right to her.” Pete twisted the jewel and studied the readout on the peeler’s handle. “Ah, just as I thought. She’s in River City.”

Anny

Drop by Kelly's blog where she discussing penile enhancements at http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/ and then trek over to Amarinda's Place at http://www.amarindajones.blogspot.com/ where she's pontificating on hanging blinds and the art of wearing hair pieces. Feel free to leave a comment! Blessings on your day!