‘Just coz you feel it doesn’t mean it’s there’

…sings Thom Yorke, my newest rock god. And to be honest, I’m inclined to agree. It fits so many situations, is a nice cautionary tale, a lovely piece of microfiction.

Ever heard of microfiction? It’s this whole thing of writing very tiny pieces, and I don’t mean as in using a magnifying glass and transcribing on rice grains – no I mean little as in very few words. Short and to the point. Micro. Also flash and nano, teensy tiny.

I had a moment of hope when I came across the idea. I thought ‘yihah! Maybe it doesn’t matter that when I go to write fiction I write a page and a half at most, that my essays tend to be one paragraph, that my poems are often just one sentence. And no, of course it doesn’t matter – the quality may still be a sticking point, but apparently size no longer matters in the world of fiction. At least in online world, where there is a community for everyone.

Speaking of online communities - what kind of people read this blog I wonder? Are you all RL (I think that’s funky web speak for real life, I pinched it off Mermaidgrrrl, she’s always more tech savvy than me on such things) friends and friends of friends? Any people out in internet land who came across this through some love of something that we have in common – living in mountain towns? commuting maybe? Waffling on about not much? Microfiction? Latin proverbs, feng shui goldfish, ridiculous crushes and loungeroom dancing? I know it is a terribly uncool, mirror gazing thing to even ask, but I am curious. Maybe other people with awful spelling read my blog for a feeling of solidarity, or perhaps people who commute from lower down the mountains, to remind themselves that things could be worse. Maybe it’s all the IT staff at my work who have clocked that I am occasionally [note: very, very occasionally dear IT staff] naughtily posting from my desk and are checking for any inflammatory content.

And, on the topic dear blog readers, I was talking to Aunty B a while back and asked her why she thought no one comments much on my blog and she said that it was because I did my monologuey thing and no one likes to interrupt. Now, till then, I didn’t know I was monologuing – I thought I was having a conversation…admittedly a rather one sided and erratically punctuated conversation. So just for the record, anyone is welcome to drop by for a visit to seagreen land, to comment away, to join in witty banter. Maybe I need to have the cyber equivilent of a little singles party (not that I am suggesting that we are all singles I am speaking metaphorically) where you can meet people you didn’t know already, and we can all wear coloured socks with Scotty dogs on them, and chat awkwardly at first then realise we have a lot in common and get drunk on bad red wine and end up telling stories we wish we hadn’t later. Hmm, on second thoughts, let’s not. But you know, an amnesty period for new shy visitors to comment. Or something. So, anyway, I think my actual point is, if you drop in to this corner of blogland, feel very welcome to say hello. Don’t be shy. Coz you know, every time you don’t comment a tooth fairy dies...or something. (This is sounding a little desperate in my rallying now isn’t it? Apologies.). Similarly, if you want me to link to your website*/ blog and or email** me (jade yjel lybean at hotm ail dot com minus the spaces) that is all good too. Coz, you know, we’re all a little online community ‘n’ all.

Just coz I don’t feel it doesn’t mean it’s not there?

* Unless your website is for a white supremiscist pro vivasection homophobic capital punishment lobby group underwritten with investments in Amazonian beef cattle and sweat shops… in which case maybe I wouldn’t.
* * Or you want to email me to tell me that I have WON THE LOTTO and all I need to do to COLLECT AMAZING WINNINGS is to send my bank details to the very unfortunate daughter of the now late PRESIDENT MUMBISHKO OF RAWBOTSISTAN and then I will have oodles of cashola to invest in FAILSAFE PENIS ENLARGEMENT TECHNOLOGY and also save the all the women and caged bears being TORTURED by signing a petition which is 8 years old; then you can pretty much save your time, thanks anyway, because I already have oodles of info on those great options.