Blogs of Strangers
Almost every morning an email arrives containing a fresh story of less than 300 words. The stories are written by Dieter Rogiers who lives in Brussels. He started his blog 300 stories on the eve of his 35th birthday, vowing to write a new story every day for a year. I’m glad to see the email in my box; I read the stories. The flash fiction is, as Mr. Rogiers predicted, perfect for the computer screen, and the stories vary enough with enough surprise endings that I want to see what Mr. Rogiers has to say. Of course, free short fiction is close to my Cain’t Do Nothing with Love heart.
Over the last six months, blogs have come into my life. I’ve been blogging on ellenprewitt.wordpress.com for years. But somehow only recently have other bloggers found me. The happy outcome of this discovery is that I’ve found them. I’ve decided to share with you five blogs written by heretofore strangers. I’ll tell you what I love about these blogs. If you blog, you’ll learn something about what appeals to readers. If you’re a reader, you’ll discover fun, free reading. In the process, you’ll find out more about me.
What does liking Mr. Rogiers’s blog tell you about me? I love the narrative arc. Yes, I like imagery and language and themes swimming allusively underwater. But, if you ask me, a story isn’t a story without a story. (It says something about the modern “literary short story” that I feel I have to state this.) I’m a fan of the “O. Henry” surprise ending, something my uncle recently told me he’d discerned in my short stories (who knew?). And I love that Mr. Rogiers’s is making his fiction available for free as he forces himself to write and gives his followers a gift every morning. It also helps that every once in a while he writes about chickens.
Remember: You Cain’t Do Nothing with Love
300 stories, blogs, blogs I follow, dieter rogiers, flash fiction, free flash fiction, free short stories
Thanks for this! I am excited to check out the blog and read his stories. I ADORE twist endings and I’m trying to learn more about flash fiction, as it is an artform of its own requiring special skills and talents.
Ellen Morris Prewitt
He’s really good, Marisa. (I may not be able to limit myself to 5 blogs to talk about . . .)
The Allure of Normal | cain't do nothing with love
[…] Some blogs I’m drawn to because, like me, they are so odd. I like Luanne because she is so normal. Luanne Castle blogs at writersite.org. Her blog has been featured on Freshly Pressed, quite an achievement. Yet she responds to every comment posted on the blog, responses that actually engage the commentator in conversation about the issue she’s chosen to write about. I truly admire that. Luanne is working on a memoir (she’s a poet as well), and she often addresses creative nonfiction subjects, a genre I loved and wrote in for many years. Right now, she’s posting about key memoirs she’s read and learned from. The resulting conversations have been engaging. One thing I’ve noticed about Luanne’s followers: like Luanne, they are genuine people who comment because they’re interested in what she is saying. Not a snarky one in the bunch. Luanne’s posts are primarily geared toward helping others with their memoir-writing, by sharing her own experiences, insights, etc. But I particularly loved this post that teaches by example. It’s an essay on how birds have figured into her life. It’s lovely. http://writersite.org/2014/01/03/for-the-birds-2/. What does my liking Luanne’s blog tell you about me? Individualization—in the language of the Now, Discover Your Strengths book— is one of my strengths; I like to approach people as individuals. Thus, I would be drawn to Luanne’s particularized response to comments. Learner is also one of my strengths. So I’d also be drawn to Luanne’s teaching posts. Positivity is another of my top five strengths. So a woman who was interviewed by the Missouri Review because she wasn’t a “somebody” writer with major awards and publications (http://writersite.org/2013/12/06/she-asked-me-a-lot-of-questions/) would definitely appeal to me. If this description makes me sound like a Pollyanna, I can’t help it—the book says your strengths are fixed in concrete. To round out the picture, see my earlier blog posts on Waiting for Satan and 300 Stories […]