Tag Archives: blogging

100 Words, 100 Days: Day 100. On Discipline.

Image c/o Hugh Macleod: gapingvoid.com

It may look easy, but blogging on a daily basis, be it in 100 words or otherwise, requires persistence and discipline. There is a world full of material from which to write about; all the writer and blogger has to do is sit down and write, goddamnit.

For the last 100 days, that’s what I did. Fighting back the odd case of I don’t wanna, I have completed what has been by and large an enjoyable exercise. But the journey is far from over. I will continue to post daily, but won’t hamper myself with word counts. Let the blogging continue forthwith.




100 Words, 100 Days: Day 92. On Mothers.

Unless you were born in a test tube, you have a mother. By and large they’re in a class of their. Not everyone has a great relationship with their mother, so I consider myself fortunate and indeed blessed that my mother an I get on well.

So when a 70-year-old woman tells her 46-year-old son that he should spend less time surfing the net and drinking copious amounts of coffee, and more time looking after his health and getting proper sleep, you know he should really listen. After all, if your mother can’t have your best interests at heart, who can?


100 Words, 100 Days: Day 38. On Perception.

I got the 123 bus from James’s Street last night, coming home from a meeting. I headed upstairs and went eye to eye with one of my regular customers. Now S is not a rude man and I’ve never had any issue with him; but he looked straight through me as if I wasn’t there. I think I have a reason for this.

It’s happened to me before that I meet people I know from work on the street on my day off. But because I’m not wearing my uniform, I’m just another person passing by.

It’s either that or he’s blind.

100 Words, 100 Days: Day 10. On Persistence.

Because I’ll be in Belfast today, I’ve written this blog at an earlier time and scheduled it to post at around the same time I’m shopping for a laptop. Why do I do this? Because I enjoy writing these seemingly effortless 100 word blogs and I’ll persist with them until the 100 days are over.

In the meantime I’ll start updating my other blog in the hope that writing constantly (and thinking constantly about writing) urges me to giddier heights. I am also happy to see people coming along to say hello. It’s you the reader that makes this exercise worthwhile.



The Constant Art of Blogging – Or Not, As The Case May Be.

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve come to understand something about the art of blogging. It’s like a relationship. There is the initial honeymoon period where the blog and the blogger go everywhere together. They hold hands, whisper sweet nothings in each other’s ears, have dinner and watch movies together. The blog and blogger, like the courting couple, are inseparable.

Then the honeymoon period ends and things settle down to a more realistic pattern. In an ideal world blogging, like a relationship, becomes a two-way partnership. Both the blog and blogger have laid the necessary foundation for each to flourish semi-independently. But both parties need to work at it otherwise it becomes stale. It’s no use if one is more interested in the partnership than the other. In any relationship this is a recipe for disaster. It gets ugly. Words are said, plates are thrown, blood is spilled. Their people contact your people. You’re fleeced and you’re lucky if you’re left with the shirt on your back. The ex-partner goes off in search of greener pastures. You’re left eating dirt.

With blogging it’s the same, only different. The blogger has written his first blog, spent ages getting the template just right, adding lists upon lists to his blogroll. He feels powerful. He writes like there’s no tomorrow. He notes down ideas every day in his little blue book; ideas that are perfect for the next round of blogs. The blog is empowered by the blogger. It feels a sense of purpose it its existence. It feeds off the blogger’s ideas and delights in sending these ideas out to its many fans.

Then the blogger stops, suddenly and without provocation. The blog wonders what it’s done wrong. Has it been too demanding? Has it not demanded enough from the blogger. It feels taken for granted. It goes off in a huff, giving the blogger the dreaded silent treatment.

I hate the silent treatment.

Then comes the reunion. The blog and blogger kiss and make up. Promises are made; realistic promises at that. No saying yes when you should say no – and vice versa. The blogger tidies up around the place, putting everything in order with a little help from his friends. All is fine and dandy. But the blogger knows that second chances are not to be sniffed at. Like a relationship, if a second chance comes your way, do everything in your power to make it work this time.

That’s what I’m doing. I’m going to make it work this time. And that, my friends, is a realistic promise.