Certain writings don’t fit well into blog format, i. e., full length books, intense essays, nonfiction narratives, some novellas. Blog readers tolerate 3 paragraphs. Anything longer needs a seamstress to ease stress in its seams, that is, requires edit encapsulation, or wears out its welcome right away. A plethora of words seems as worthless as leaves in a swale, spontaneously transitions from confidently natural to dangerously nugatory, and ushers sand down proverbial hourglass. The elegance of poetry partly derives from its occupying very little space and saying nothing essential to survival. So how do you distribute a dreadful expedition into bad taste? Helps to sort works among appropriate sites.
Labann opened an account on Wattpad Mobile and posted 2 fairly recent, wildly experimental pieces.
One is an essay entered into an international competition that dared to question the validity of facts in an information age. Other is a nonfiction adventure from 50 years ago with a hard sell based on bugs, drugs, guns, roads, rock&roll, sex and sorrow. Both sound outrageous when so said. Won’t bemoan being able to read on a smartphone. Might consider posting chapters from book if readers give them a look.
World was once quite different. Trees lined narrow lanes before electrical lines mutilated them. Fruiting and ornamental varieties now lack former vigor. Honeysuckle and rambling roses no longer lovingly smother fences. On humid nights diaphanes flickered as they flew lazily around neighborhood shrubbery. Lampyrinae, the huge subfamily to which they belong, was historically used as a garbage taxon to collect any beetle that glows despite diverse morphology. None thrive where defoliation and pollution devastate. Cyclists notice but not motorists except to complain of protein splats on their windshields. Children jailed these so called fireflies in jars before drivers, pesticides and pets decimated. A bug you can see through shows ecological loss through its absence. Nature's May Day warnings tax memory and wax subtle.
Before technology those without sheer access would celebrate wonderful words artfully chosen, but only when confined where they could be conveniently controlled, such as closed forums, dusty libraries, or exclusive museums, likewise fearsome personalities and whatever they produced. All Archimedes asked for was a place to stand to leverage earth in space. Nowadays, media clog emanates from literary smog of wannabes agog. An idea you share might not be accepted and won’t pay for what you need today. Great authors can’t expect their effort to have any effect, even those that comfort. Unsupported, they too will disappear like diaphanes.