Hi folks, here I am , head in hand, with no promise fulfilled for you. I have been promising a new book, a new cover, something, for weeks now and all I have for you today is a rant. Sigh, life is what happens when you make other plans. Right, the rant. Well, it’s this. All the experts tell you that you must blog several times a week and always have quality content. I’ve taken several courses and they all say that. The thing is, nobody will come right out and tell you what it is.
Just what the hell is quality content? Says who? Who gets to be the judge of your content? Do you shoot for good quality content or is poor quality content sufficient? Here’s an example. I was encouraged to read one man blog. He’s pretty famous and has millions of readers, so they say. Everybody loves him, so they say. There you go, he’s got quality content. I read several of his posts and found only a sad and bitter man spouting negativity. In my opinion, that is poor quality content, but many people disagree with me. Therefore I conclude that quality content, much like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. (reader) This still leaves me wondering what the heck I can do differently (better) than I am currently doing. End of rant. Opinions please, I seriously want some input here. Okay, you made it this far so here’s a short excerpt from the new book I keep promising.
Annie had met the man in blue a few days before, sort of. He was the talk of the town now, but very few people had yet seen his face. She had been walking her dog, Bitsy, when she heard the high-pitched whine of the motorcycle engine. The machine and rider came rocketing up the street just as Bitsy pulled her head from the collar and raced into the middle of the road, barking wildly.
Annie screamed in terror as the tiny dog attacked the racing machine. The rider slammed on the brakes; the machine stopped instantly, rising high up on its front wheel and turning a perfect circle before settling back to the ground. Bitsy leaped in and began to bite at the rider’s boot.
The bike was painted cobalt blue and the rider was dressed from head to toe in cobalt blue leathers with a matching helmet. As Annie ran to get Bitsy, the rider scooped up the dog in a gloved hand. His helmet was tinted so she couldn’t see his face as he handed back the squirming dog and spoke to her. “Did you drop this, Miss?”
“Yes, thank you,” she replied gathering the small ball of ferocity into her arms. “Thank you so much for not killing her. Are you all right?”
“My heart rate is a bit high right now,” he chuckled, “but I expect I’ll live. Can you direct me to the six hundred block of Maple Street?”
“Oh, of course. It’s down this street for two more blocks then turn left and head up into the hills. It’s up there in the fancy houses overlooking the town. Once you’ve made your left turn you’ll eventually encounter Maple Street.”
“My thanks, Miss. Have a great day and keep an eye on my friend there.” With that he gunned the engine; the motorcycle rose up onto its back wheel and raced down the street. Annie watched it go until it was out of sight.
Okay, that’s it for me today folks.
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