That’s pretty much how I feel today after yesterday’s explosive “issue.”
I’ve applied the more amused side of myself to the situation and found some areas that fit in with my irony-prone life. Now, this is the more vaguely defined Alanis Morissette irony, not the strictly defined literary irony, but still.
- I wrote the article “Be a B-list Blogger” as a way to reach out to newer bloggers who might not know how to best break in to the community, but the article ended up as a jumping-off place for being called an exclusive clique.
- I was originally going to title the article “Be a Better Blogger,” but changed it because I thought the title was too judgmental. I didn’t want to say that someone was a better blogger because they received more links. However, if their goal was to get more links, than describing it as a B-list blogger was more objective. Or so I thought...
- I spent the time away from my computer yesterday calling mothers and rejecting their daughters from my school’s drama club. How’s that for bizarre? Actually, it’s a class with an instructor and a class limit and several people turned in registrations too late, so I had to tell them that the class was full. Man, I hate leaving people out.
Also, the next Carnival of Children’s Literature is accepting submissions... um, today. To explain, the Carnivals is a collection of posts from the preceding month, pulled together by one blog and presented to the members of the community at large. To participate you either use the Carnival site to submit an entry, or you write to the host of the carnival with the link to the post you want to feature. You generally pick a favorite post of the month, though sometimes a carnival will have a theme like love or thankfulness or community.
It may not be too late to be included in the Carnival of Children’s Literature if you write an email to Midwestern Lodestar and explain how you are very new at these things, but that you really, really, really want to participate because now you realize after all the past week’s discussions that it is up to you to get yourself out on the dance floor and shake your booty. Tell her that Mother(Reader) said so.
I’ll be back tomorrow with questions for the bloggers who said they wanted them. Brace yourselves, people.