The thing to do on Twitter yesterday seemed to be pasting your prose into this analyzator tool called I Write Like to see which famous author it matched you up with.
I decided to approach this somewhat scientifically and I selected three samples of my fiction writing as well as three samples of my nonfiction writing, and see what came up.
Well, for my fiction I got:
After I posted about my first comic con yesterday, I tweeted a link to the post out into the Twittersphere. Not even thirty seconds later, this popped up in Tweetdeck.
I don’t know if this counts as a library because at libraries, you’re required to return the books. And most libraries I go to believe in the honor system about as much as an atheist believes in God. But this is still a neat idea, and it certainly makes the empty newspaper bins on Franklin Street a little less depressing.
Whoever created this little ray of literary hope, more power to you!
Anything has the potential to be art.
A pile of cherry blossoms on a sidewalk, the screeching beeps of the checkout scanner at the grocery store, the dregs at the bottom of your coffee cup. Even the ten pounds of fur my cats litter throughout my apartment could be transformed into an aesthetically appealing work worthy of preservation in a museum.
Okay, maybe not. But if this gets to be in an art museum, then a wad of cat fur may very well wind up in a museum some day.
I know I promised y’all a thoughtful and insightful post today. Then a migraine happened last night, and sleep didn’t. I still finished the post this morning, but I don’t feel that it does justice to the topic I want to discuss. So I’m going to let it age a little bit.
The great thing about this being my blog is that I rather than deadlines, I have guidelines for when I want to post. The guidelines being that I aim to post SOMETHING once a day whether it’s a quick update on my life, a link to something cool, or cat pictures. At least once a week, I intend to post some thoughtful essayish-like thing that will hopefully provoke some thoughts in your noggin, or at least make you laugh.
I am working up a truly meaningful and thoughtful post for tomorrow. Possibly one for Thursday too. No promises. My birthday is this Saturday, so I might run up against some pre-birthday laziness later this week.
So today I will entertain you with a series of tweets I posted on Monday about a pack of ants raiding my office.
It’s been a week, and the brain still hasn’t spat out any brilliant blog ideas. Some less-than-brilliant ones. But as I’ve said before, I tend to prefer quality over quantity. And focusing on quantity could very well devolve my blog into an infinite photostream of cat pictures.
Whatever strain or variant you may be, I really don’t appreciate you trying to camp out in my sinuses. I may not have a full blown cold yet, but I can feel you poking around in there, testing the boundaries of my immune system. Waking up with a little extra congestion this morning was kinda my first clue that you’ve come to visit–again.
I have nothing particularly wise to contribute to public discourse today. There’s a political opinion or two rolling around inside my head, perhaps a funny joke or three as well. But nothing that’s truly worth sharing.
I suppose my one bit of news is that I’m possibly going to be heading to Florida for the National Association of Science Writers meeting. Thus, the reef picture above. While I’m down there, I would love to drive south and checkout the Everglades and Biscayne National Park. Although, I’m also tempted to go to a beach and just veg as well. Those are tough decisions I don’t have to make yet.
Like me, my Gmail inbox has steadily gained weight these past few years.
Actually, my inbox has gained MORE weight than I did. If each email weighed one pound, then it would have been…mmmrrrrghlfffff.
What? Didn’t hear that? Fine, I’ll admit it. My inbox was about 7,000 pounds overweight. Yeah, that’s right. I had 7,000 emails in my inbox.
For the first time in four years, there isn’t an overwhelming four-digit number next to “Inbox.”