I started writing on WordPress as a kind of experiment. As a new user, with no contacts I wanted to see what would happen if I posted something. Would anyone see it? Would anyone like it? Would I ever know; is there feedback coming my way?
Feedback? Yes. Most of it, however, is Spam. Infomercials and con artists. There were a few actual artists in the bunch but it was time-consuming to weed through in order to separate the wheat from the chaff.
This is frustrating because I threw some pretty good reading at these “people”, though it is not readily apparent that any actual human ever read any of my work. None of it was referenced in any criticism. It is confounding, really. This has been almost as satisfying as my two-year search for a New York literary agent. I am working on my fifth novel and still no success.
A long summer yields balkingly to autumn with the cold making inroads only occasionally and under the cover of darkness as the Sun reclaims its hold on this portion of the Good Earth. The plants defend Her but are destined to recede as their fathers before them, valiantly using all the hues passed down to them until they fall and give rise to the stalwarts of years to come in an unending cycle of seasonal battle. One day the cold will triumph when all life is called home and the eternal void will capture the light of the Sun.