Blogger: RAWR!
Friends, I have been floating around and reading blogs and trying to catch up with you all. Commenting, though, is proving muy difficult. This frustrates me, because I like to leave a note and let you know I've been by. This frustrates me, because it ruins my mood for visiting in blogland.
Blogger is not remembering my ID. It wants me to sign in each time I try to post a comment. But I do, and then still, it insists I'm "anonymous." Just when I think, Okay, I'll post this way and clarify who I am within the comment, I am asked to sign in again. It is a vicious, vicious circle, and my comments won't publish.
I guess all this to say I'm still here, I'm still out and about, so know that I visit and I read, even if I can't always let you know I've done so.
Is anyone else having issues like this? Any ideas how to fix the whole deal?
MY TIP TO BLOGGERS: Place your e-mail address somewhere on the main page of your blog. Readers need a way to reach you should there be trouble with the commenting system.
Showing posts with label comments. Show all posts
Showing posts with label comments. Show all posts
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Friday, December 4, 2009
About Those Comments
I love your comments. They are as much a part of my day as my morning chai, the need for a shower, kisses from my family. Your shared thoughts provide me with continual moments of respite and reward.
It's always been important to me that I reply to you individually, within each post's comment section, and I've liked bringing the comment circle to completion. It's been my small attempt at hospitality, letting you know I appreciate the time you took to say something about my post.
The time has come for me to rethink this. I didn't want it to, but it has.
Between family, household, holidays, writing a novel, visiting others' blogs and all those other things that make up a life, responding in such a way isn't always going to be possible anymore. And I hate that, because it feels kind of like I'm taking away my part of a life line so crucial to, well, my life.
Sappy, ain't? (That's me, in a nutshell.)
I know you haven't expected it, anyway. I know this will be no skin off your noses, and I'm not trying to place some psuedo self-important purpose on this thing I've always done. I just wanted to be clear with you all that I will continue to relish your words. That your comments will feed me, they will bring warm and lifted moments to my days, even if I don't call attention to it by replying.
Thank you for being my readers. And please, do keep those comments coming. I appreciate them, and I appreciate you.
It's always been important to me that I reply to you individually, within each post's comment section, and I've liked bringing the comment circle to completion. It's been my small attempt at hospitality, letting you know I appreciate the time you took to say something about my post.
The time has come for me to rethink this. I didn't want it to, but it has.
Between family, household, holidays, writing a novel, visiting others' blogs and all those other things that make up a life, responding in such a way isn't always going to be possible anymore. And I hate that, because it feels kind of like I'm taking away my part of a life line so crucial to, well, my life.
Sappy, ain't? (That's me, in a nutshell.)
I know you haven't expected it, anyway. I know this will be no skin off your noses, and I'm not trying to place some psuedo self-important purpose on this thing I've always done. I just wanted to be clear with you all that I will continue to relish your words. That your comments will feed me, they will bring warm and lifted moments to my days, even if I don't call attention to it by replying.
Thank you for being my readers. And please, do keep those comments coming. I appreciate them, and I appreciate you.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Reader Roll Call!
I'd like to attempt, once again, to get a run-down of those who may regularly read my blog. Of course I'm familiar with those who comment often, but I'd like to know how many are here otherwise. Who's out there lurking? Braya? Robyn H? Mommy? Curious mind wants to know.
So leave me a note. It can be as simple as a "Yo." And you can even categorize yourself as anonymous, though I'd appreciate some hint as to your identity (like "I once called your daughter a pickle. In writing." Oh yes, you know who you are). Or, if you're a new reader, or one who's never commented before, do tell me your name and how you found me. Curious mind wants to know. Oh. Did I already say that?
10 rejections, 14 out
So leave me a note. It can be as simple as a "Yo." And you can even categorize yourself as anonymous, though I'd appreciate some hint as to your identity (like "I once called your daughter a pickle. In writing." Oh yes, you know who you are). Or, if you're a new reader, or one who's never commented before, do tell me your name and how you found me. Curious mind wants to know. Oh. Did I already say that?
10 rejections, 14 out
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Feedback: An Important Factor
I thrive on feedback. I've always known that (and I think it's inherent for writers), but I realized today how true it is.
Early on in the writing of my novel, I fed chapters to my parents and two friends. The most objective, unbiased views they weren't, but the praise and comments they returned to me gave me the boost needed to keep at it.
Somewhere around the middle of the manuscript I slacked off, though, and wouldn't let anyone see my progress. The culmination of my work and ideas came to be too encompassing, too detailed and in need of, I knew, eventual editing. Realizing I wanted no one to see it until it was as close to "perfect" as possible, I opted to keep the rest of the book to myself.
And then this week, out of nowhere, the opportunity for a sort of beta reader (proofreader) presented itself. I'm not sure how detailed the feedback will be, but so far I've gotten great comments. The most exciting? The reader has asked questions of me, of the story; questions that prove she's getting from the plot exactly what I'd hoped the audience would take away - even early on. It fills me with glee! Satisfied and giddy glee! And desire to keep working with my edits, to push forward with my goal.
It's just reassuring, you know? Like, it's proof that I'm still doing the right thing. No matter how much I question my talent, question my potential, this little bit of feedback tells me I'm on the right track.
Feedback, I love you.
Early on in the writing of my novel, I fed chapters to my parents and two friends. The most objective, unbiased views they weren't, but the praise and comments they returned to me gave me the boost needed to keep at it.
Somewhere around the middle of the manuscript I slacked off, though, and wouldn't let anyone see my progress. The culmination of my work and ideas came to be too encompassing, too detailed and in need of, I knew, eventual editing. Realizing I wanted no one to see it until it was as close to "perfect" as possible, I opted to keep the rest of the book to myself.
And then this week, out of nowhere, the opportunity for a sort of beta reader (proofreader) presented itself. I'm not sure how detailed the feedback will be, but so far I've gotten great comments. The most exciting? The reader has asked questions of me, of the story; questions that prove she's getting from the plot exactly what I'd hoped the audience would take away - even early on. It fills me with glee! Satisfied and giddy glee! And desire to keep working with my edits, to push forward with my goal.
It's just reassuring, you know? Like, it's proof that I'm still doing the right thing. No matter how much I question my talent, question my potential, this little bit of feedback tells me I'm on the right track.
Feedback, I love you.
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