#( can you tell I miss being in the research biz

[organchordsandlightning]

Lighters in Malevolent

Hello, folks! 

So, as loads of people have noticed, there’s some hinky stuff going on with the lighter in Malevolent.  As I was going back through transcripts to see where it popped up, I thought it might be helpful to have a reference of all the lighter appearances so far (a sentence that sounded a lot more hinged in my head than when I typed it out.)

Obviously, there will be spoilers from EP1-26 under the cut. 

Bold: Arthur obtains a lighter. Regular: Arthur uses a lighter. Italics: Relevant but not directly related to lighters.

For brevity purposes, I’ve also omitted repetitive lighter uses. (For example, if Arthur flicks on the lighter four times to guide himself around some tunnels, I’ve only noted the first go unless something has drastically changed in the meanwhile.)

(This is more of a reference post than a theorizing post, but IMO, a lot of the more Compelling lighter red-stringing pops up in later S2 + S3.)

Season 1

EP1: Arthur uses the lighter while exploring the ritual/sacrifice basement.

EP2: Arthur finds a flashlight in the trunk of his car. He leaves it after the crash.

EP3: Arthur uses a matchbook to light a candle, found in the Mansion.

EP4: Arthur steals Kellin’s lighter from his bed.  He briefly drops it, and then lights Kellin’s bed on fire.

EP5: John remarks that they have nothing after the hospital, excepting clothes and several hundred dollars from the Lost and Found.

EP6: Arthur remarks that they need to get a flashlight and matches, which they buy at the gun shop.

EP7: Arthur searches for a lighter on his person to re-light the lighthouse wick. John responds that they have one, but it refuses to light in the heavy wind. He re-lights the lighthouse keeper’s supernatural lamp.

EP9: Officer Collin has a lighter at the start of the episode. Arthur takes both a lighter and a flashlight on the police boat, after the monster attack. He uses a lighter to start a fire on the beach.

EP11: Arthur uses the lighter for illumination and.to construct a torch. 

EP12: Arthur uses the lighter to illuminate the hotel basement.. He initially refuses to light the boat lantern, but eventually does use the lighter to both burn the tadpoles and smash a lit lantern against the boat.

Season 2

EP13: Arthur finds his lighter in his bag while dealing with the Trader. He uses it to cauterize John’s wound. 

JOHN: You said something back there. ‘This too shall pass’. (NB: In reference to Arthur comforting John before biting off his little finger.) ARTHUR: Yes. JOHN: Why did you say that? ARTHUR: I don’t know, it’s just a comforting thought. JOHN: It’s written on our lighter. ARTHUR: Oh, that’s right! (He pulls it out and flicks it.) That’s the one I had with me from... the office, way back when. Crazy to think it’s made it all this way. It’s not even really mine. JOHN: No? ARTHUR: No, found it in an old desk drawer when we moved in. JOHN: Interesting.

EP14: Arthur refers to the lighter when talking with the Three Soldiers.

EP15: Arthur uses the lighter to illuminate the tunnels.

EP16: Arthur momentarily drops and recovers his lighter. He uses the lighter to ignite the supernatural bullseye lantern.

EP17: Arthur lights and extinguishes the lighter per John’s wishes. He also uses the lighter to make his Molotov Cocktail.

EP19: Arthur barters back his lighter from the Trader after his imprisonment.

EP20: Kayne lists his things, but neglects to mention the lighter. In panic, John suggests the lighter to help with Lilly’s bleeding.

Season 3

Coda: Arthur uses the lighter to light a fire.

EP22: The following two exchanges -

As Arthur enters the washroom to bathe:

(The door shuts behind him. Arthur searches through his pockets.)

YELLOW: What are you searching for?  ARTHUR: Our lighter. YELLOW: You have a lighter?  ARTHUR: Of course, don’t you … you saw it.  YELLOW: No. ARTHUR:  You must’ve, you said – (NB: Reference to Yellow saying ‘This Too Shall Pass’ at end of EP21.) YELLOW: I didn’t see your lighter, Arthur.  ARTHUR: Fine, must be in the bag. Any way to light the stove? We need to heat the water. It’s freezing in here.

After Arthur sees Uncle rummaging through his room:

ARTHUR: Oh. Um. (He starts to speak, in the same cadence as Kayne’s original rhyme. The main theme starts to play.) The glass, the stone, the mask, the books, the tooth, the coin, the wallet and … (Normal cadence) Some hooks. Um, the shaving kit, and my … uh, lighter should be in here, somewhere. YELLOW: What lighter? ARTHUR: The lighter, you – I used it... oh! (He flicks the lighter.) YELLOW: What?  ARTHUR: Oh, it’s here, in my – in my … in my jacket. W-Wait! Didn’t I just…?

EP23: Yellow tells Arthur to pull out the lighter to illuminate their way in the estate. Arthur refuses.

EP24: In the mine, John asks Arthur where his lighter is. He finds it in his jacket again. He lights a lamp.

EP25: Arthur lights a torch with the lighter. 

[creek-cryptid-deluxe]

So, It’s been awhile. There’s a reason. The last week or so has been... a week. jesus christ. I shall regale you of my tale, not in chronological order necessarily because that’s how I roll. BUT if you suffer through it, you shall be rewarded with an outdoor plant update post after. Bribery. 

So. Early last week, The Spawn sat down with me and presented a proposal, a well researched proposal, advocating for her starting her own residential cleaning business because she finds it incredibly satisfying and relaxing to clean stuff and she does quite well. So we sat and brainstormed, researched, and talked about how she planned to advertise. She needed a business gmail (and all the tools that come with that), logo, business social media, website, and flyers. 

Being her age, she doesn’t have the skill or knowledge to do these things. So, I volunteered to help with these things so that she didn’t have to spend money hiring someone. I created the email account, put all the brainstorm stuff into a google doc that saved to the biz drive, which included a to do list and the basic info needed. I created a logo. (At which point, she called me a wizard while watching me do so.) I helped her try to create a biz facebook account, but facebook immediately flagged it as breaking the rules. like literally as soon as I created it. So I appealed it & The Spawn wanted to wait to see what came of that before I went further. So she took me with her to shop for the things on her supply list, and we decided to go grab some of the smaller stuff still needed for J’s appt at the same time. This was Friday. 

Saturday, I got a text from J in the early afternoon saying that he needed me. I quickly packed a ‘just in case’ bag, since I didn’t know what to expect or how long I would be there. Now, you have to understand that in the 7 years we’ve been friends, while he has discussed things with me via phone or text, in person he is like me, incredibly stoic. Hell even via text or phone, he always insists that he’s fine and responds to my reminders that i’m here if he needs someone, and to just let me know, he responds “I appreciate it, but I won’t”. So him reaching out like that is a MASSIVE thing. I showed up, let myself in, and he just walked up to me, wrapped his arms around me and started sobbing. I stayed the night, alternating between being comforting and being distracting. It was extremely disarming to see such raw emotion from him repeatedly over the course of the night and to hear him say the things that he is usually uncomfortable articulating. 

The next morning he seemed better, thanked me for coming (to which I responded “Of course I came. I’ve not ever been lying when I’ve said that I’d come if you needed me, day or night, but you have to let me know.”) and apologized for ‘being a mess’. I told him every time he apologized (which happened quite a bit over the course of the night) that there was no need for an apology because this wasn’t something to be sorry for. He was struggling, as people do, and rather than embrace the darkness or fight it alone, he asked for help from someone he trusts and loves that he knows reciprocates. That i know how hard it is for him to do that and that I am proud of him. 

Sunday afternoon the kids (The Spawn and The Bf) picked me up because she needed to take him home but didn’t want to leave the dogs alone. I got in the car after The Bf got into the back, insisting I take the front seat. We hadn’t even gotten out of the parking lot of the apartment complex when The Spawn casually asked “So are ya’ll fucking?” 

that’s how I learned that I was the subject of a bet. Apparently, The Bf asked where I was when he came over and out of convenience, not wanting to really explain the relationship, The Spawn said I was at my boyfriend’s. I guess he went on about how how come I’m never hanging out with him, etc, so The Spawn explained the actual nature of our relationship. At the end The Bf said “Nah, they fuckin’ but your mom isn’t telling you.” The Spawn said, “No, she’d tell me because when I started high school I asked her about her past encounters and asked about what stuff was, if she’d done it, and if she enjoyed it, and she was always honest with me. That’s how I know she likes it up the butt.” He insisted that J and I were banging so The Spawn, knowing the truth, took advantage of this and made a bet. It was an easy win for her. SO...

I get asked this question & I look at her, eyebrows raised because she knows how our relationship is (granted if I were physically able and he was willing, I would definitely jump back up on that horse) and said, “No. Mom is no longer physically capable of fucking without risk of severe injury. Plus, despite having ridden that horse previously, I’m not into endangering our besties status. I would go into further detail and commentary but I don’t want to make The Bf uncomfortable. These are things you know, so why do you ask?” She told me of the bet, Then i promptly text J about it because I knew he’d get a laugh out of it. And I was right. 

By the end of Sunday, she recieved an email stating that facebook was upholding the ban, so she and I talked and decided to make a webpage via WIX and after getting a few clients, she could upgrade her account with them to get extras that are offered, including her own domain (rather than the name.wix address) and a lack of wix ads on her page.  And then it all went downhill from there.

Monday through Wednesday (yesterday) had The Spawn breathing down my neck more than any boss I’ve ever fucking had about when her business shit would be done. On top of what I’d already done, between Monday and Wednesday I:   set up her google voice account for a business number, wrote her a “first time client” script, created a google sheets quick reference client database, created a google forms for detailed client records (all in a folder together that is searchable by client name, which would be the title of the form), set up the calendar, downloaded and edited/collaged her before and after photos she took via cleaning some of our spaces, and built her a 7 page website including the photos, facts, and little blurbs that go along with it. It went live at the end of yesterday. 

Throughout this process, rather than just checking in and thanking me for doing it all to save her money, she asked me every couple hours what still needed to be done. When I was not as far along as she felt I should be, she got progressively more hostile. Yesterday morning she had the balls to text me “What all do we still need to do before I can get rolling?” I responded with “ ‘We’? hahahahaha *I* still need to [list].” 

I’m sure you’re saying to yourself, “Am I missing something? Did you forget to list something in the list of stuff you did between Monday and Wednesday? You mentioned flyers....” You are correct. But yesterday while I was being driven to my 2nd vax appointment by my father, I basically told him that I’m fried. If a flyer just included facts, I’d be fine, but the part where I need the potential customers to be drawn in and want to learn more is not happening. The creative well has run dry to the point that it is reminiscent of the dust bowl. And I reminded him that there is a reason I no longer do this type of shit for a living. I mentioned that thinking about The Spawn’s company is making me stress puke and that any time The Spawn approaches me to talk about anything, I immediately feel incredibly nauseated. 

Now it should be noted that when I mentioned this in a multi paragraph text earlier, he responded with “Just take a step back from it for awhile, then go back to it.”    

and everyone wonders why on earth I don’t speak up when I hit my limits and why I just push onward despite the damage it does to me. THIS. THIS IS WHY. Everyone is all for me not pushing myself too hard... until it is inconvenient for them. So I basically screamed in the car. On the way back he said he’d help. Ok. cool. 

Except that every fucking idea he had legit just tripled the amount of work I was going to have to do. I mentioned being burned enough that I was considering just paying a freelancer to do it. This motherfucker chimes in with “Oh! [Cool Ex Employee Who Left to be a Stay at Home Mom with her First Baby] does stuff like that. Let me reach out to see if she’d be willing to.” BRUH. That should have been the first thing out of your mouth after my original texts! Jesus Christ. I agreed but with the caveat that HE had to tell The Spawn and say it was his idea because he sees me getting overly stressed and has put his foot down. And he had to do it that night because I knew that if he didn’t, the first thing I’d hear today was “So when are my flyers going to be done?” and I am absolutely not dealing with that shit. The only thing I am doing from this point forward is showing her how to use her database/client files/calendar and I will be happy to answer questions or give advice, but that’s it. This isn’t my company and I’m not employed by her, so I’ve already put in far more work than should have been expected of me, with very little thanks outside of after I finished her logo and a couple times she came down and watched, then told me I’m a fucking wizard. 

Really It was good in a way because I had been doing that thing lately where I wonder if I’m just being dramatic because admin type stuff isn’t that hard and if I could do it from home, I should be able to manage... but this put me back down on earth, where I absolutely am not being dramatic and I cannot fucking do that shit 40 hrs a week for some random asshole. Shit, this was for my own child and I was ready to give up, stab her, then tell her to go fuck herself.

so...that’s been my last week and a half for so. Also, my only side effects from Vax 2 (pfizer) is feeling more tired/run down than usual and a bit of extra joint pain... but those might actually be related to the stress and hell I just went through. who knows. 

as always, don’t steal my shitshow. get your own shitshow. suffer through your own crap. 

[nothingsolutions]

Mike Fortune /m ./

Hops on ft n instantly starts bouncing ideas about new clothing wit me

Talking about the technical aspects of waistbands 

(10 mins in no questions asked)

Best year on earth: 2011. 11 is my number. Crazy year. First year off probation. Could actually party. Gramps died. Lived life to fullest. Met first gf. Life changed this year. It’s 11 years later. 

I live off 11’s. mike fortune is 11 letters. born at 11:11. year I graduated.

Year I told myself ima b artist if people like it or not.

Dream planet 2 live on: earth. I’m already here but I’m not living yet. I’m tryin to concur this planet b4 the next.

How many chains: depending on how u style it at least 2. Choker necklace wit a chain, layers r the key. Simple is clean but I'm all bout being extra.

if in the case of fire: grab family first or anyone that is in need of being rescued cause fuck that ppl need saving

proceeds to tell me about this time he helped a lady out of a freeway accident. his take away is to act on instincts. 

don’t hesitate.

Most interesting color: green. resembles everything I want money, life, trees, land, wealth, good vibes everything good in life g

New motto: everything’s green

(Leveling up this year)

Very GQ of you. Suave.

1st Genre of music that comes 2 head: rap

Most influential genre: Pink Floyd (y) v inspired wanna play guitar like David Gilmore don’t care bout no1 else. his guitar hits the soul.

/Emotional factor of life

//Goes back 2 hippy vibe n reminds him of freedom and expression

Calls his dog, Baby, a little yorkie. nickname dababy

(5 min discussion on darting vs pleating)

R wings efficient? for the most part, life isn’t always fair shit happens

Splatt: its da spallllllttt (tiktok) dont worry it sweetheart 

Ur credit card #: splatt!

Oldest pair of shoes (that u still own): hi top canvas doc Martens. don’t ever wear em still brand new all blacked out everything black wanna paint the sole n put another type of laces. 6 years old.

what inanimate object is your muse? Guitar or industrial sewing machine or my chick. I cant pin it down to one oh wait or my 1969 VW bug 

Geopolitical: geometric symbols wait geometric patterns wait yeah no no no sacred geometry 

Most interesting word: flabbergasted (y) ion kno it’s English but it’s just funky but it makes sense. U kno what it means w/o knowing the definition. just sounds like something. 

Thoughts People eating pancakes: I love pancakes. I condone. Extra butter I want it sweet. I like French toast 2 but I like pancakes more

Do u sleep? Yea but I have a hard time sleeping by myself. My mind wanders. I stay up late researching and thinking of my next move. I look for inspo all night. 

Creative juices get flowing at night. Every1 minding own biz with no distractions. 

Damn it kinda late I gotta go 2 sleep

I shoulda done this during the day but here we are

How did u get the steeze: inspired by my uncle. Skating, tattoos and overall lifestyle. He was very punk and into raw edgy shit. Wore all black / punk patchwork grungy shit. Silver chains. Learned 2 sew from his mom. Dad is an airbrusher. His family taught him his way.  

Last meal on earth wut is it: I want 5 lobsters or so. Never ending lobster 

1 project at a time or all over? scatterbrained. I’m always juggling. I should b in a circus man. I stop sewing midway and start painting. I would b a fool to stop whatever I’m doing. 2 creative 2 stop.

Gonna b in this industry regardless. Or art. Something. 

Some1 u look up 2: Basquiat

You can define crazy in 2 diff ways how messy it is or how perfect it is.

Never liked 2 take order and direction 

Candy from ur childhood u miss: Twix. not a sweet tooth anymore. I like sour candy now. I miss loving chocolate.

When is it time 2 stop: when its becoming a problem

Achievement ur most proud of: having a sense of what he wanna do with his life. Regardless if it works out or not

Big project rt now: myself

Happy 16th birthday: 2 time felon on probation. halfway through my probation. nothing special spent it at home. Felonies at 15 getting outta sophomore year. Spent 2 1/2 yrs on probation.

Biggest impacts on his life.

Would rather risk chasing dreams than be on probation.

Rlly affected his time in high school 

I couldn't go 2 parties had 2 be home. Missed out on a lot.

Everything he missed out on was made up for after that next summer

Patience is a virtue but karma is a bitch

I don’t regret any of it. Learned a lot. Made me who I am.

Promo: this is the Truman show

I wake up with that lets get it attitude

or I needa brush my teeth

or like ugghhhhh

or Where’s my vape

Ima b here doing my thing

Real g’s move in silence like lasagna 

[acklest]

Bunker. About 9:30 AM. Sam is at the computer. Dean is sitting in the chair across from him, sock feet on the table, staring at his phone.

Sam: So I got an email about a case, can you beli— *suspiciously* What are you looking at?

Dean: *pauses a little too long* A recipe for a bundt cake.

Sam: Well, you’ve got the sound turned off, and you’re looking at it... intently.

Dean: *still looking at the screen* It’s a very intense recipe. *pauses*  You cut the cake in half like a bagel *knife hand slice* and there’s some kinda filling in between. *innocently* Do you like hazelnut? 

Sam: *does the nose touch “about to make a move” thing and makes a grab for the phone*

Dean: *spots the tell, holding the phone out of reach with one hand and smacking Sam’s hand hard with the other*

Sam: No porn, no serial killers. We agreed! *slaps back*

Dean: *muttered* I thought that was just when we were eati— *attempts a slap, barely missing it*

Sam: At ANY table where we are both sitting. Including coffee tables, after what happened last week.

Dean: I’m helpin’ you be more specific. *pretending to read again* Did you know that Sears used to sell houses? In the 1900s. You ordered outta the catalog, they sent you labelled materials and instructions in a train car. I mean, you had to pour foundation—

Sam: Yeah, that’s not what you’re reading now. You were reading that last week.

Dean: *cavalier voice* I can’t read about our nation’s rich—

Sam: You went through that person’s whole blog in a weekend, and it went back like 10 years. And you didn’t have your porn smile on.

Dean: *balks* I don’t have a porn smile.

Sam: You do. You absolutely do. *mimics smug “no one knows I’m watching porn” smile*

Dean: *draws back, startled* No way it looks that creepy on me.

Sam: *leans forward more, making another attempt at getting the phone out of his hand and actually gets fingers on it*

Dean: *swings his legs off the table to halfway stand, wrenches it out of Sam’s grasp and brandishes it, smacking him again with the other hand* I swear, I will Naomi Campbell this right at your face— *stands up more* Is there a case or are we just gonna slapfight all day?

Sam: It’s an abandoned mining town in Arizona, in Cochise County. *eyes the phone* Something’s luring people into the town who are descended from people who used to live there. Witnesses said that the they reported hearing music in their heads the day before they went missing. Like they were on autopilot or something. Then they’re hung, but there’s no way they could’ve hung themselves.

Dean: Wait. *unconsciously relaxes his grip on the phone, fascinated* Did you say Cochise County?

Sam: *stands up just enough to reach across the table and steal Dean’s phone* 

Dean: *noise of outrage, making fists* You know what? It’d serve you right if I WAS watchin’ something that made you wanna gouge your eyeballs out. Maybe I will be next time.

Sam: *murmurs* As long as it’s not at the table. *looks at Dean’s phone, bewildered* You’ve been watching videos about power lines exploding for like, two hours? *pokes at the screen* Is this a fake tab? Do you have another browser on here?

Dean: *deadpan* You vastly overestimate any sense of shame I’d have about that. 

Sam: *huffs* Fine. *suddenly tosses Dean’s phone back at him*

Dean: *barely catches it with a glare* Transformer fires, Sam. You know, when a utility pole blows and it goes through all the colors, especially when it's more than a hundred thousand volts. And then— *mimics a long zap through his teeth, then an explosion* — everything goes white, and it lights up the whole sky. The thing on the side keeps suggestin’ more videos and I can't stop. Just watched one that was a bunch of clips from videos I already watched. *slumps back down in the chair with his phone* Some of ‘em are so shaky, I don’t know why they bothered.

Sam: *stares at him for a few seconds* Shaky videos. Of things blowing up. *back to his laptop* Imagine.

Dean: *ignores him* So what’s the REAL, way less cool case?

Sam: I got it this morning. Outside of Kansas City, the Missouri side—

Dean: From who? 

Sam: *hesitates* Nate.

Dean: Nate “the Knife” Nate? Nate “gave himself a nickname” Nate? “Somehow managed to survive five near misses and thinks he’s an MVP” Nate? I got scars older than that shithead.

Sam: *laughs* You want me to chase him off the lawn? 

Dean: Nah, he can hang out on the lawn, but I want him outta the biz until he’s needed to shave for a year or so. Who gave him permission to use the Bat-Signal anyway?

Sam: He reached out because we’re close. And because he apparently doesn’t know how to research. *sighs* Just over the state line, there’s a house where every ten years, two people go in and brutally kill each other, even if they never had any disagreements prior to that. Goes all the way back to 1947, two years after the house was built. If the pattern holds, it’s going to happen again within the next few days.

Dean: And we aren’t already in the car—

Sam: Once I dug into it... *turns the laptop so it’s facing Dean* The two who kill each other are always siblings. Always. In one case, they hadn’t seen each other in over 20 years, separated as kids. And they still beat each other to death.

Dean: *stares at Sam, face going still*

Sam: 

Dean:

Sam:

Dean: You said no, right? 

Sam: *indignant* OF COURSE I SAID NO. I told him to put one of those fumigation tents over the house and say it was being bombed for bed bugs. And to call someone else. *grins mischievously* I may have told him that the only reason he was able to get that ruguru in Salem was because some other hunters had already injured it before he got there. So maybe he shouldn’t be bragging about killing something on easy mode.

Dean: *relieved grin back* Good job. *back to his phone* Cochise County. Tombstone. People hearin’ weird music ‘cause some cowboy killed at the O.K. Corral’s hauntin’ the place? Loaded that one up pretty quick. Nice.

Sam: Back atcha, “bundt cake.”

Dean: *offended, taps at his phone, then hands it, screen out, to Sam* Look at all the different fillings. Does that not look awesome?

Sam: *carefully takes the phone, mindful of slap range* Uh, yeah, that actually looks pretty good. But, uh... *peers at the list* Nothing with coconut.

Dean: *takes the phone back and settles into the chair again, feet back on the table* No coconut. Copy that.

Brochester Hijinks Masterlist

[alpacinothirst]

Time Traveler Imagine Prt 2

1973

It had been two weeks since I had traveled to 1973. In those two weeks, I had interviewed at least fifty people. Almost all of them were government related. I had asked them all their thoughts on President Richard Nixon. Most of the public figures all spoke poorly of him. I knew that this mission was going to be a bust if there wasn’t anyone willing to back Nixon up. 

I decided to speak with Agent Moretti, seeing if he could point me into the direction I needed. “Who should I talk to? No one wants anything to do with him this late in the game,” I sighed into the phone. 

“I was just thinking about that... Maybe we could get some celebrities to talk on TV. That’s why we need you in Hollywood,” Moretti replied in a matter of fact tone. 

“Like who? Who am I going to get in with? No one wants to speak to Kelly Davis.” 

“We’ve got just the person...” He fell silent. 

“Who?” I asked impatiently. 

“Women of the 21st century really don’t know what courtesy is, huh?” Moretti sneered into the phone. “Al Pacino, biggest guy in Hollywood next to his costar... What’s his name? The guy who plays the Godfather... Well whatever,” Moretti dismissed the topic. “Pacino hasn’t spoken on politics. Maybe you could get him to say something good about Nixon.” 

“So how’re you going to set up a meeting with a high class, movie star?” 

“You don’t think the FBI didn’t rub elbows with Hollywood?” Moretti laughed. 

“I just didn’t think we could ask for an interview like this.” 

“You’ll see what kinda strings we can pull. Especially with communication to your time. The guys there have so many ideas. It’s uncanny. But lemme call you back in like an hour and a half. I gotta set up this meeting.” He hung up and I hung the phone the receiver. I felt disheartened still. 

I decided to go through the responses from my interviews. Moretti had asked someone to type out the transcripts per my request. It helped having the words in front of me, it made it easier to make sense of everything. 

As I skimmed through the pages, I noticed a trend in the responses. Every official had said the same thing about the break in: Nixon’s aides had the burglars’ names in their phone books. I knew that this was just propaganda written in by the media during this time period. 

I sighed, throwing the papers down. I was feeling hopeless and my mind was spiraling. 

I was sent on this mission to keep Richard Nixon in office and to be re-elected. That was my job. My head director had told me that it would change the media, that it would reshape how it reacted to political rhetoric and stop the disgusting mudslinging going on. This was supposed to help the ever growing rift in our nation. 

Before coming here, I had done my research on Watergate and the government in the 1970′s. Everyone was trying to get over Vietnam. Women’s rights were being questioned. If you could name one of the most controversial points in history for the American government and women, this would be it. The trust in the government was basically ruined with this scandal added to the mess of politics already. It devastated how people saw their country. 

I knew that was what I was here to fix. But with all of that bouncing around in my head, I couldn’t remember why I thought this was a good idea. All of these people were doing their jobs, putting into practice checks and balances. 

The phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. I was getting a headache from all of this nonsense. “Hey, Jacklyn, this is Jane. I phoned to tell you that you’ll be meeting with Al Pacino Thursday at 10:30 am sharp. Do you have pen and paper for the address?” She asked. 

“Yeah, I’m ready for it,” I said, copying down the address. It was a small hotel on the East side of LA. 

“Please be careful when interviewing him. Lots of people are going to see this interview. And the entire FBI is going to be watching. From your time and mine.” 

“Thanks, Jane,” I said, hanging up the phone. 

~

On Thursday morning, I woke up and put on a pair of red slacks and a white button up. By 10 am I was out the door and on the bus. The bus dropped me off two blocks from the hotel.  

Once in the hotel, I walked up to the secretary, holding my press badge in my hand. “Conference room is third door on your left,” she pointed down a blue carpeted hall. 

In the conference room I was met with the camera crew and Jane. “Hey Kelly,” she smiled at me. “Here are your questions,” Jane handed me a stack of note cards. Flipping through them I noticed the phrasing was off. 

“This one just says “Is President Nixon a good president?” What is that? He’s not going to answer that,” I scowled at the cards. 

“If you don’t ask those questions, I think Moretti will throw a fit.” 

“I already wrote my own.” I showed her my small stack of notes. “It’s going to ease him into the subject.” Jane shook her head, insisting I use the cards. I sighed, finally just taking the cards. She took that as an agreement to use the cards because she thanked me afterwards. “What happens if I don’t use them?” 

“Moretti just told me to make you use them.” I sighed, sitting in my seat. It was 10:35 am. Al Pacino was still nowhere to be seen.

“Where is he?” I asked impatiently as the clock hit 10:50. And as if it was his cue, the door opened and revealed the man of the hour. “Hi there, Mr. Pacino.” 

“Hi. You’re Miss Davis, correct?” He asked, shaking my hand. 

“Yes! Have a seat.” Al Pacino sat cross legged from me, a coffee in his hand. He had a blue sweater on, it almost engulfing his entire torso. 

“Sorry I’m so late, got a late start this morning,” Al smiled at me. 

“You’re fine! How’re you doing this morning?” 

“Doing alright. And how about yourself?” 

“Fine,” I smiled at him, pulling my questions out. I saw Jane eye me, but I ignored her. She was not going to make a huge scene in front of these people. 

“So are we ready?” I asked the camera man. He gave me a thumbs up and pressed a few buttons. “Are you ready?” I asked. Al gave me a small smile again, nodding. I introduced him to the camera and spoke about his work. “So you’ve gained quite a lot of fame over the past year... How has fame changed your life?” 

Al sighed heavily before speaking,”I think the only thing it’s changed is my wallet and how many people know my name... But even with that, I am not sure too many people know who I am.” 

I nodded. “Have you ever been recognized in public before?” 

“Once when I was out for coffee by myself. The only other times I am really noticed is when I’m with my old costars.” I asked him more questions about his career, trying to make a smooth transition into politics. 

I was planning on transitioning into politics after my ‘what do you in your free time question’, but he didn’t answer my question. He asked me,”What do you do in your free time, Miss Davis?” 

“Oh well, it’s not that interesting,” I blushed. 

“Everyone does something.” 

“I like to read horror novels...” I said half halfheartedly. He nodded, resting his face in his hand, staring at me.

“For some reason, I don’t believe you,” he smiled, tilting his head. I felt my face grow red again. “And I think you’re giving yourself away,” Al laughed lightly. “Tell me what you do in your free time?” He wouldn’t know about half the things I liked to do. Everything I loved and knew was in the 21st Century. 

“Well, Mr. Pacino... I was hoping we could get back on track with the interview, if you don’t mind...” I tried to be polite. Al was holding back a smile as he nodded at me, asking for the next question. “I was going to ask you to comment on America’s current political scandal.” 

“You want my opinion about Nixon, huh?” He eyed me, shaking his head slightly. 

“If you wouldn’t mind...” 

“I think he’s an idiot for all the break in garbage.” I sighed, knowing that this was not going to go over well with Moretti.  “He tried to extort American money for himself.” 

“I think most people can agree on that,” I said, trying to seem neutral. 

“What do you think about the president?” He asked. 

“Uh... I don’t really get into politics much.” 

“My agent never told me where this interview was going to be published... Is it the anti-Nixon campaign? You can stick my face on that.” I laughed lightly, earning another smile from Al. 

After a few more questions, Jane slipped me a note. It told me to end the interview and so I did. I thanked Al for his time and shook his hand. Once the cameras were off, Jane stomped out of the room. She slammed the door on her way out. 

“Did she get offended by my Nixon spew?” Al asked, standing up and stretching. 

“I don’t think so. I think she’s mad because I didn’t use the questions she gave me.” 

“Well, I like it when the questions are original anyway...” He handed me my purse. “I was thinking... Maybe we could grab a cup of coffee... If you’re not busy?” He asked. 

“I mean sure... As long as we don’t get mobbed by your crazy fans...” I joked. He laughed in return, opening the door for me on the way out. We walked past Jane. “Hey I’m grabbing some coffee. Do you want anything?” I asked. 

“No. You need to be back here in 15 minutes so Moretti can speak to you,” Jane answered harshly, walking away from us. 

“She’s a real treat, huh,” Al said. “Who is she anyway? Your boss?” 

“Basically, yeah. She just gets mad when things don’t go her way.” 

“I couldn’t work with someone like that,” he replied. 

“You’ve never worked with anyone who was stubborn?” 

“Well, I have. A director or two... But most of the time, they just let me go ahead. Maybe I’m the stubborn one no one can work with,” Al laughed, making me giggle. “So what’s your name?” 

“Kelly, Kelly Davis.” 

“You’re in the media biz... How’s that?” 

“Well, it’s a little weird. Some days I have so much to do that I could pull my hair out and other days, no one will answer my calls.” 

“Hmm... Well, I could fix that... Wanna interview Diane Keaton?” He asked. I laughed at him, not realizing he was serious. “Come on, don’t laugh. I can get you an interview with Diane tomorrow night probably.” 

“Oh Al, it’s alright. I think I’m not going to be interviewing anybody for a long time. Especially after this...” 

“Your boss didn’t like your questions that much, huh... Is there anything I can do to help?” Al asked, stopping in front of a small coffee shop. 

“I don’t think so... But thank you,” I smiled at him. Al opened the door for me again and walked us up to the register. 

“What do you want? Drinks on me.” 

“Oh no... It’s alright. I can get my own-” 

“I insist... I’ll take an espresso and whatever she’s having,” Al said to the cashier. 

“I’ll take one, too,” I said. “Al, you really don’t have to.” 

“Please... Let me pay for one drink. You can pay for the next,” he winked at me. Al paid, leading me to a booth by the window afterwards. “So tell me about yourself? Where are you from?” 

“I’m from Nevada...” 

“Ah... You don’t strike me as a Nevada person.” 

“What kind of person do I seem to be?” I asked, playing with the napkin dispenser. 

“Someone who’s reserved... But a very strong silent type.” Al smirked at me. Our drinks came, stopping the conversation. “Did I get it right?” 

“Would a reserved person tell you if you got it right or wrong?” I chided. 

“You’re good...” He laughed, sipping his coffee. I asked him where he was from. “Good old New York City... Every been there?” 

“Once when I was younger. I went there for a school trip.” 

“Well, I call that place home usually.” 

“That’s nice... Do you live in LA part time?” I asked. 

“Only when I’m working in New York and vice versa the other way around.” The conversation died a bit. But I tried to fill it with questions about his movies. “I’m actually working on a movie coming out in December... It’s called Serpico.” 

“Tell me all about it!” 

“It’s about a cop trying to uncover all the other dirty cops... Based on a true story, ya know?” 

“Like Dog Day Afternoon?” 

“What is that?” Al asked, taking another drink. I sighed, mentally face palming. That movie wasn’t going to come out for another few years. 

“Sorry, it’s a small picture about a bank robbery in the 30′s. It’s not too big.” Al nodded, seeming to buy my story. I had almost freaked out. Slip ups like that were what got people thrown in mental asylums in these times. There were plenty of horror stories about people being thrown away in the loony bin because they slipped up about events or things during a mission. 

[your-worst-knightmare]

Red: Pt. 7

The TV blares loudly from the thin walls separating us and the neighbours. I’m not sure why anyone in their right mind would blast the news at that volume, especially this early in the morning. The reporter’s voices are punctuated with Louis’s quiet snoring. He fell asleep in that armchair about an hour ago, just before the TV was turned on. And thanks to the Lazarus, I can hear every word. 

“...This just in from Agounit, located west of the Sahara desert. Two individuals bearing a considerable resemblance to two members of the criminal gang nicknamed the Outlaws have been spotted fighting...”

Wait... what? Two members of the Outlaws? Spotted fighting... Roy’s left the cape and cowl business behind for the time being and Kori’s off-planet as far as I know. Creeper’s... not affiliated with us as far as the media knows. And I’m here, stuck in Louis’s flat. So that can only mean... Artemis and Bizarro... It’s too good to be true. It can’t be. 

“Louis.”

He grunts, still asleep.

“Louis!”

He jolts awake, mumbling. “Hoodie, what’s going on?”

“Turn on the news.”

Blunt, but it works. He runs a hand through his thinning hair before grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. I press my lips together, hoping to stifle any reaction. The picture is blurry, but it’s them. Showing them mid-battle, Mistress nothing more than a silver, deadly blur. Bizarro seems to be yelling at something out of the frame, only reinforcing his menacing appearance. I

 can’t help but smile. It’s really them. We could get the gang back together and pretend like none of this ever happened. I’m sure Dog and Biz would get along really well. 

“You know them?” The question almost surprises me. I never really told Louis about the Outlaws. I figured he already knew, somehow.

“Yeah. My…friends.” So much more than that, but what other word could I use? Family. Not my blood, but definitely family. Oh God. I need to find them. Or at least let them know where I am. Somehow…

“Hoodie. You okay?”“Yeah, I just…” I trail off, not knowing what to say. The longer I stay here, especially with Artemis and Bizarro so close, I’ll go crazy. As much as I’d like to just run off… Louis would have to take the fall for me. I don’t want him getting in trouble for my actions. I’ll figure something out. I have to.

Louis looks at me, sensing my restlessness. “ You think I could untie you now? We could go out if you want.”

I look down at my duct-taped hands. The Lazarus is still there. I can feel it.  A rush of burning youth, pulsing right through me. I could rip through this stupid duct tape, grab my bag, smash through the window and be gone. I could– I clench my jaw, driving the thought away. I gotta stay in control.

 The TV is still blaring. Too loud. Too damn loud. Louis is saying something. I don’t know what. It’s too much. Artemis and Bizarro. “ Two members of the criminal gang nicknamed the Outlaws…”  They have no right to pretend to know who we are. Who they are, “Wannabe Wonder Woman…” Stop. “ Defective Superman…” Shut up. Dead Robin. Replacement. Not good enough. Nobody. Failure. Your fault.

“Shut up!” I’m standing up, breathing heavily and vision swimming in and out of clarity. The metallic tang of blood fills my mouth and I feel disgusted at myself for enjoying it.

“Hoodie?” It’s Louis’s voice that brings me back. He sits me down on the sofa, seemingly not fazed by my craziness. He briefly looks down at my hands. I ripped through my self-made bonds. “You wanna tell me about it?”

My first instinct is to shake my head and brush it off, but some crazy voice inside my head screams, ”Jason! Trust him! We like Louis!” I decide to listen to it, because yeah, I do like Louis. He brings me Skittles. 

He gives me some water and some time to breathe before sitting down beside me expectantly. I take a deep breath and do the best I can. “You know why I was taken into the correctional facility? I was looking for my friends. The ones on TV. They’ve been missing for about six months…” 

He nods, tapping my shoulder. My back is already rigid, so it doesn’t really make much of a difference when I tense at his touch. “Was this a… Lazarus episode that you told me about?”

I grip the sofa cushions, swallowing.” Yeah.”“I’ll see what I can do.”

The following week is uneventful, mostly filled with my obsessive research on where Artemis and Bizarro may be going next. Reports have seen them travel north, into Morocco. Obviously, I can’t just buy a plane ticket. There’s two reasons why that is out of the question (the bigger one being that I’m legally dead). Then, out of nowhere, they’re gone, just off the grid for at least two days. I may be overreacting but without any evidence, my mind automatically jumps to the worst conclusions.

 “Louis?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“Any news from ‘A’ lately?” Fifth time I’ve asked today and I’m painfully aware of the fact. Dog, who just turned up three days ago (nobody asked any questions, she’s got mind control powers that way) whines up at me, wanting attention. I half-heartedly rub her head, making sure Louis doesn’t see me before pulling her up onto the couch. 

“Nothing so far. He sends you his regards, though. He also said that you should stop sulking and maybe finally accept my offers to go for a walk. Dog doesn’t like going without you.”

At the mention of ‘walk’, Dog looks up excitedly. I wrestle her head down before Louis can yell at me for letting her sit on the ‘people furniture’. Unfortunately, Louis sees her, somehow. “ Hoodie, that dog better not be on the couch or I’m cutting off your sugar supply for the week.”

“Sorry girl,” whisper as I put her on the floor. “ You know that it’s either sugar or murder…” To make it fair, I sit on the floor too. As if to get revenge, she decides to use me as her new pillow and sits on my legs. Only by the time I begin to lose the feeling in my feet do I decide that Louis may be right and I should probably take her for a walk myself. “Louis?”

He looks up from washing the dishes. “Yeah Hoodie? ‘Ya feelin’ a bit squished there?”

“I think maybe, possibly, that you and ‘A’ were… right. I’ll take Dog for a walk. I guess we could both use the exercise.”  Very unkindly, Dog shifts her weight so that she seems to grow heavier by the second.”Just- just help me out here Louis,” I grunt. 

To my annoyance, he takes a minute to laugh at me before coaxing Dog off of me.” Why’d you even name her Dog anyway?”

“I told you, I’m not good with names. Hence the moniker Red Hood.”

Dog bounces around excitedly as Louis tries to put her collar on. “Hmm yeah, I see you’ve taken that quite literally with the new outfit, Hoodie. I guess everything has to be on the nose now.”

“Shut up, Louis,” I grin. “I’m going back to the helmet anyway.”

“Don’t tell the board that,” Louis says as he follows Dog out the door. I tug on some old boots and my leather jacket before tagging after them. 

“Where are we going anyway?”   

“There’s a park a few blocks down. We’ll drive there. The streets aren’t really that safe around this time anyway.” He tosses a tennis ball in his hand, passing it to me as we get into the car. “Go run around with Dog, kid. It’ll be good for ‘ya.”

“Yeah, okay.” I absentmindedly juggle the ball from hand to hand. Something seems wrong. Being so normal, when I should be… doing something. Something meaningful, to myself, at least. I mean, playing with Dog is meaningful to her, but shouldn’t I really be focusing my time on Artemis and Bizarro instead? 

The park doesn’t seem right either. I feel like I’m being watched. Dog doesn’t seem to mind, which should tell me to calm down, but I can’t shake the feeling. Dog trots up to me, tail wagging happily. I throw the ball for her and she races after it. On her way back, she speeds past a bench with an inconspicuous guy just sitting, staring off into nothing. He taps on the bench rhythmically and looks over at me every few minutes. Morse code.

Hood. News. Red. B.

“Hey Louis, can you throw the ball for Dog? I gotta throw something out.” I approach the guy, preparing to throw out some old paper from my pocket. The bench, luckily is likely out of earshot of Louis. “Who are you? You have news?”

He stops tapping but doesn’t look at me. “Friend of Gunn’s. Word is the Outlaws are missing a member.”

I stoop down to tie my shoe. “And?”

“Whoever told the Red Hood to meet here tomorrow and alone would get a paycheck.”

“Who put the deal out?”

“Go by Red and B. Claim to be Outlaws.”

“You’ll get your money. But don’t think I won’t come prepared.” 

As I jog back to Louis, I get tackled by Dog. “Come on girl!” She lets me up and starts a game of tackle-tag. I let her have it. After all, these next few hours are the only thing between me and the reunion I’ve been waiting for or a lethal trap. 

[yourfandomfriend]

SPN Fic Inspo

Maybe this is just me liking the sound of my own voice, but I’ve been writing my infrequently updated SPN fic, Concordat, for over five years now and outside of my bestie, I’ve never got to talk about the inspiration behind it or anything like that. So here I go a-doing that.

Why not? It’s my blog and I love extras. Maybe it’s an insight into my process? Maybe we can all talk to each other about inspiration? Or maybe I’ve just been dying to scream my secrets into the wind? YOU CAN BE THAT WIND.

What If?

The sane part is, I wrote a shorter fic preceding it, set during “Swan Song” where Bobby prepares for the possible eventuality of Sam and Dean dying at Stull and Cas faces the possibility of having to live as a mortal. I had Crowley stop by for just one chapter to mwah-ha-ha at them (the first time I’d ever written for him, an experience that actually made him my favorite character).

And I had to wonder: if Cas didn’t get his powers back, who would Crowley have gone to with his Purgatory plan? And what would become of Cas and Bobby? The whole thing took off from there.

Inferno

But that’s not the fun part. To me, the fun part is where I totally ripped off Darkwing Duck. 

See, there’s this grim, hilarious episode I saw as a kid called “Dead Duck” where DW chases a villain on his motorcycle without putting on a helmet and crashes head-first into a brick wall. Spoiler alert, he lives through it, but he dreams he died. And in the world where he’s dead, the villain everyone thinks killed him, Megavolt, became super-famous and a popular talk show host.

Pretty dark for a children’s cartoon, right? 

But what got me was that dying, watching his loved ones grieve him, getting chased by the literal Grim Reaper, and leaving his world to the mercy of a homicidal maniac didn’t upset him nearly as much as finding out that the bad guy became more famous than him.

For real, his headstone is a polaroid taped to a road pylon.

In case you're wondering, this is where I got my sense of humor from. So, yeah, I thought it would be hilarious to put Sam and Dean through the same thing and see which one of them got more pissed off. To my surprise, it was Sam.

Greek Chorus

In a few chapters, I showcase a turd gallery of minions, all of them originals... but two of them were not quite whole cloth. PA demons, Shipley & Lydecker. 

The latter, Thomas Lydecker, died of heart attack in London in the swinging 60s and went straight to Hell. As a demon, he's a jaded, cowardly, hedonist (with hidden depths) who’s worked for Balthazar since Inferno started.

The former, Fred Shipley, is a remarkably heroic demon. Once a Manhatten cop with a conscience, he sold his soul to help a lady who tricked the shit out of him and his contract came up in the 1970s. Sent fresh from The Pit to be Crowley’s latest assistant (he goes through them like tissues). 

Together, they provide exposition and comedy relief for the reader, since Shipley is a rooky who needs everything explained to him and Lydecker can’t take anything seriously. And they were inspired by these two cuties.

Monty Pippin and Eddie Arlette, two police detectives in a one-season-wonder TV show from the noughties called Keen Eddie. The show started as a knock-off of blingy Guy Richie crap but was really ramping up to be a show about saving souls. I missed Eddie and Monty, so I sent them to Hell. Is that weird?

Samandriel

This one’s a little controversial. There’s a point in my fic where I think a lot of fans stop reading -- the death of Heaven’s cutest angel, Samandriel. The thing is never intended to kill him, but when I was doing research on him to get the voice, my hindsight kicked in and I finally realized who S’mandy really was, underneath the cute vessel. If Balthazar read Samandriel’s mind, then what he saw would make him want to kill him.

Brother Stuff

Can’t tell a story with the Winchesters without angst. The fic is set in the middle of season 8 because that’s when I started writing the outline, and while I don’t specifically have the boys fight about their season’s issues, it went a long way to coloring how they took the other timeline. 

Sam loves it, and goes from being a mopey boy to a fluffy, sunny boy so fast, you know it’s not normal. The thing is, Sam was feeling mighty guitly about everything that happened with him quitting after season 7, and this new timeline was one where he died a hero. His friends are alive, Cas never went crazy, Michael and Lucifer are dead, and no Dick Roman. It’s awesome! But in order to save that timeline, Sam and Dean would have to destroy their own, with them in it. And part of Sam is actually considering it, such is his guilt...

Meanwhile, Dean hates the place because, well, it’s doing so well without the Winchesters. Friends are alive and happy, there’s a Keurig, etc. His instinct is to defend the timeline that he and his brother are from, to favor it, not only because he wants them to survive but because he wants to believe they’ve changed the world for the better. But if everything is better in that other world? He feels like it’s their fault things got so screwed up in his world. Angst!

Crowlthazar

While most shippy fics start with the pairing and work backward, this was another thing I didn’t see coming. I knew Crowley would team up with Balthazar -- he needed an angel if he was gonna go up against Raphael. But while Crowley stuck to the plot outline, Balthazar wouldn’t. He kept derailing things by palling around with Crowley, in ways that weren’t super platonic, and he wouldn’t let me finish a chapter until I let him do it.

The problem with that is, if anyone gives Crowley sympathy and helps him work through his issues, he loses his motivation to king things. “Blade Runners” is an entire episode dedicated to the theory that if Crowley is allowed to feel his feels, he’ll get super horny and abandon his plans.

I tried all sorts of things to keep Crowley and Balthazar apart, to no avail. Finally, I gave in and, surprise surprise, it turned into love, or as close as those two weasels could get. Their motive to follow the plan was reinvigorated -- they wanted to defend what they’d found, Crowley especially.

If you post an spn fic inspo of your own, tag me in that biz!

[thejivechild]

Year Three, What a Feat

What up homie,

It’s me again, back to give you your annual fill on all things good, bad and probably boring. It’s weird how long you’ve been gone. It feels like a lifetime in some moments and no time in others, then I look up and realize “three years, so much has happened.” It’s an odd sensation, feeling like days creep by but years vanish in the blink of an eye. Yet here we are, doing our best to look like we’re successful - fake it til you make it, right? Right! I was going to go back and read what I wrote you last year, but I figured it didn’t matter much. So here we go, sorry if any of what I tell you is simply a reiteration of last year’s letter. I’ll borrow from a popular paradigm because I think I’m wed to the idea of you coming back some day. Without further ado, something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue.

Something Old: I told you last year was my 1L year, right? Well I finished that in typical basement boy fashion, smoove. It didn’t feel pretty or glamorous when I was in the library reading until my head hurt, but the end result was well worth it and I got my first year of law school outta the way, THANK. GOD. Henry recently met a law student in NYC who described 1L year as “academic hazing” and I couldn’t agree more. It was like being in high school all over again, but with adults who like to use bigger words. I won’t front like I didn’t flex the lexicon at times, but can you blame me?! All in all it was really a massive learning experience. I did my best to bridge the gap in knowledge that I came in with and to ride the learning curve, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t stressful. Onwards and upwards!

Henry remained in Iraq for another year. He started his juice business, er I started it as the idea man (He owes me royalty payments!), and it took off. He’s mastering the art of social media and millennial marketing, which is a massively important skill to have in this day and age. On a different note, he took Zenry to new levels. From telling me he was studying stoicism, to his newfound obsession with healthy diet and living, he did his best to transform into a modern ascetic, and he did it pretty well. Don’t let any of this fool you though, he’s still the same Henry that you man marked in possession drills at Seneca park. Still ratchet as ever, still LITTLE bro, but would we love him if he wasn’t?

Afrika kept his head down and plugged away at success silently and smoothly. He just finished his masters and I’ll be damned if the only notification I got was a hilarious snapchat with the caption “just finished my last presentation.” It’s funny how little he’s changed (or any of us, for that matter) since you’ve been gone. He went to Afrika for most of the summer and did this program called “Kick for Life,” I think. If I butchered the name I apologize, but you can guess what it was from my description. It sucked not having him around all summer, but the snaps made me want to go to Afrika, and I plan to!

Snat and the Kennison house remained the exact same. A band of misfits if I’ve ever seen one, but how on earth could we expect different? Their humble abode remained the place to be on Friday and Saturday nights and like we basement boys have always done, they made it their own unique experience that was unlike any other on earth. Snat continued in “medical sales” if that’s an apt description of what he does - I still don’t really know, and I’m not sure he does either. He wears scrubs, fitting, but he’s certainly no doctor. Doctor of Destruction, maybe. He won awards for whatever the hell he does, took some trips to LA and got medals. I really don’t understand it lol but all success is good success!

Ham and I fell outta touch to a degree, but not for any real reason. I go MIA in Lexington when school gets hectic, so it’s almost entirely my fault, but he knows and understands and doesn’t hold it against me. I was there for his bday (of course) and it was a lot of fun and felt like I hadn’t been gone for a minute. Same inside jokes, same antics, same squad. I pray to god that never changes.

All in all the crew continues to remain largely intact. Life gets in the way sometimes, but rest assured that none of us have forgotten where we came from. It’s still basement boys for life. Thuggish as ever, prettier than before, breaking hearts and chasing dreams haha.

Something New: I deviated from the legal path, albeit temporarily and slightly. I’ve decided to pursue a JD/MA and get my masters in International Relations. It added a year (don’t remind me) to my academic tenure, but I think the end will be well worth the means, ya feel me? It’s putting me closer to a career in international law and eventually world domination. Getting closer to that penthouse! I just finished my first semester, killed it in the classroom, and made some new friends. Truth be told, the extra year sounded awful but I’m halfway through and don’t regret it at all. But enough about me…

Henry’s back in the states! First time in two years. He came back, surprised his mom, then got surprised by me a couple days later. It was long overdue and I think (I know) he missed the freedom that we cherish in the Western world. He left the juice biz and decided to become a #ProReader (his words, not mine). Sadly, his taste in literature is limited to “how to become a millionaire” self-help books, earning him the nickname “self-help henry” or “SHH” for short. I like it because sometimes you just want to tell him “shh” when he goes on his rants about… who knows. That being said, he’s on a real cultural adventure. I think he’s endeavored to see, smell, touch and taste more of the world than he would have had he stayed in the states after school. I hate to mention Drake, but for SHH it fits; he’s trying to live “more life” and he’s succeeding. But despite that, he’s still the little kid who couldn’t hit a long ball to save his life, don’t let him tell you different.

I sort of gave it away, but Afrika is finished with school - for now. He’s toyed with the idea of law school (I told him not to go) and with the idea of a master’s in International Relations (I told him to definitely go) but for now he’s still moving in silence and success. He and I are working on a lengthy research paper and the goal is to get it published in some scholarly journal in the future. Not a ton of new, but certainly priming for massive success in the future.

Snat, oh Snat, Snat’s perhaps made the biggest move of any of us. The child moved to Warshington DC. I STILL don’t know what the kid does for a living, but it took him to our nation’s capital. I think it’s great that he finally spread his wings and got outta town. I visited him recently when I was in DC for a conference and soaked up a little of his new life. It was cool. He lives in a swanky apartment complex in a nice part of town and wears scrubs to work. Most of his neighbors probably think he’s a doctor and I’m sure he’s in no hurry to disprove that theory, but I’m not hating. I told him to get a raise so that when I graduate we can be roommates (again, coming for that penthouse). He and Mcaddams are still a love story for the ages. Still posting the cheesiest pictures online and conjoined at the hip, even from hundreds of miles away! It’s a site to behold haha, but they’re happy which is all that matters. I drop the occasional comment riddled with unnecessary emojis and exclamation marks on their FB photos.

Sadly, I can’t tell you how much new has gone on in Ham’s life, but I do know that he’s moved up the corporate ladder. I want to say he’s some sort of manager now, you know, still living the life of a team captain just in a different arena.

I should mention the coolest thing (IMO) that we did this year. Two nights before Thanksgiving I was in the shower when I had an epiphany. “People always play Thanksgiving morning football games,” I thought “we should do a soccer game.” A minute or so later it hit me again, “we should do it in honor of Spotie. Eventually, we should make it a charity game.” And on and on and on. I was on a roll and it just made so much sense. We (Me, afrika, snat, henry and several others) put a plan into motion and on Thanksgiving morning we held the first ever Nick Spaulding Memorial Soccer Game at, you guessed it, Seneca Park. It was great. So many people showed up and played, cheered and braved the ice cold for you. Some of us came out of retirement, some of us rose from the dead, some of us played in what probably felt like slow motion, but all of us had fun. It was, is and will surely always be a highlight of this year and many to come. It was grassroots and unorganized, but it laid the foundation for what is going to become an incredible annual event, I promise. Check my FB and see how many people showed love!

Optimism over everything. Life is going pretty well on all fronts. There’s no huge drama to report, no heartbreak or endless sadness. There have been some utterly devastating moments, but those aren’t to overshadow the unbreakable happiness and the ties that can’t and won’t ever be undone. People grow up, people grow out and people grow apart, but the latter certainly isn’t us. We’ve all grown up and grown out in many ways but we haven’t grown apart. Time may pass and we may not speak daily, but the same principles apply and the same standards are adhered to. We’ve all got each other’s backs no matter where in the world or when in time something comes up. It’s actually insane to think about. Nothing could break these ties, no force on earth or in heaven has that kind of strength.

Something Borrowed: We’ve all reached a point where life has become real, but that’s not to say that it’s hardened us or erased memories of our pasts. I won’t speak for everyone, but sometimes I wake up mad. Sometimes I wake up sad. Sometimes I wake up and the last thing on earth I want to do is go exercise, or go to class, or face the day. Sometimes I wonder why any of this ever happened to me, or how it could have. I often think “I’m too fucking smart to have let things play out the way they did.” It’s moments like that when I’m most humbled. It’s moments like that when I realize that some things are just out of my hands. It’s moments like that when I remember that I’m human and that my struggles and my flaws are as visceral and real as anybody else’s. Those kinds of moments scare me. It’s a delicate balance between survivor’s guilt and self-perceived invincibility. Sometimes I cry and ask myself why it wasn’t me. Sometimes I grin and think “I survived that, how the hell could this stop me?” Sometimes I don’t think about it at all, because it doesn’t make any sense. One thing stays consistent though, through all of those emotions I learn. I learn about myself and what I’m made of and what I can and can’t handle. It has certainly raised my self-awareness and for that I am thankful.

If I had to describe the past three years in one word I’d say they’ve been incredibly educational. Academically, sure, but I’ve learned a lot of intangibles as well. I’ve learned that there are certain, unavoidable truths that we’ve all got to come to terms with. For example: it’s entirely possible that any given day can be the worst day of your life. It’s absolutely terrifying how fragile this existence is and how temporary. But in the same vein, there exists a light in all of us. A light that cannot be extinguished unless we ourselves choose to do so. And that is perhaps the most beautiful thing. Because while any given day can be the worst of your life, the chances are equally likely, if not better, that any given day can also be the best day of your life.

Something Blue: So instead of today and all subsequent December 20th’s being the hardest days of my year I’m vowing to make them the easiest days of my year. I vow to make them full of nothing but happiness and laughter and joy and remembrance. I do it in your name and your likeness. I do it for Momma Ros and Dr. Spauld who, although they never dreamed they’d have to, now live on in your image. They now perpetuate your legacy and your memory, as we all do. I know I live in your shoes when I stand up for what I believe is right and unashamedly wear my heart on my sleeve, or when I stumble into something delicate like a clumsy, lovable bull in a china shop. I’m not religious, you know that, but before I do anything big I say a prayer for success. Not to god, but to you, my brother. I always ask you to send a little extra basement boyness my way and to give me a little help from the other side. I walk with my chin held high knowing that I’ve got the greatest good luck charm in the universe and my best friend on my side. I smile through the tears, knowing that my ambition, our ambition, far exceeds my talent but that it will be the driving force behind the change that WE affect. There’s something holy about the connection we have, even after all these years. There’s something incredibly about the intangible and invisible. I know it’s there, I feel it every day. You know it’s there, you always send it my way. It’s comforting knowing that no matter what life throws at me I’ve got a partner in crime. So, I laugh when I want to cry, I joke when I want to give up, I grin when things get harder and I welcome every challenge that comes my way. I don’t flinch at the thought of studying until 2 in the morning, or running until I can’t feel my legs. Bring it fucking on. Because I know that when I’ve fought until I can’t fight anymore, when I’ve given everything I have and when I think I can no longer go on, well that’s when you come in. That’s when you give me that little bit of strength, that nobody else has. That’s when you serve that shot of extraterrestrial espresso that fuels me. Someone asked me how I did it earlier this year, where my drive came from. I smiled and simply replied “my ambition is wicked,” and it is. OUR ambition is wicked.

After three years I can comfortably say that my life is great. I can comfortably say that we’ve all grown and learned and matured in immeasurable ways. I can comfortably tell you that we’re all going to be fine. We’ve gone different ways, but our ties have remained constant and strong. The sun rises and sets every day and each passing day brings us all one day closer to that thugs mansion reunion that we all so desperately yearn for. Although each new day brings new experiences and new reasons to be thankful we don’t forget about you. We don’t cease to make you proud nor do we move past you. Your memory lives on in all of us, even if we don’t actively express it. We work harder, stay up later and get up earlier because we’re all trying to build our own penthouse apartments, our own sky-high, iced out paradises in the sky. Do you want know why I’m so obsessed with penthouses? Why I’ve talked about them for the past three years? Not because it signifies wealth, or achievement, or luxury but because it’ll put me that much fucking closer to you. I love you, my brother. I can’t wait to see you again, but I promise I won’t come a minute early. I won’t come til I’ve left my legacy and til I’ve made you proud. Be good up there and don’t forget about me, I promise I won’t forget about you. I won’t let people forget about you. Take care and have a good year. I’ll be back next year with another letter. Tell the post-man to expect it.

XX XII XIV

Your Brother

[kurlyq722]

Excerpt for DHKY Ch. 44-’Til Death--Mercedes/Rachel Excerpt

When Mercedes did finally wake up, it was cuddled up next to the warm but empty expanse of pillow and blanket beside her. Still slightly disoriented, she felt around in the darkness for Sam, but couldn’t find his body in the emptiness. Before she could question his absence, her phone vibrated, for the second time, underneath her head. She fished out her cell from underneath her pillow with an annoyed groan, squinting at the bright display to search for a name before answering.

“Whoever the hell this is, why the hell are you calling me at….” Mercedes checked her phone display once more for the time. “Three thirty-five in the morning? Is everything okay?”

“Mercedes! The third most amazing thing in the history of amazing things happened to me today! Oh, and Happy Holidays, by the way.” Rachel always spoke in an out of breath rush whenever she was excited, like her emotions were running a physical marathon. “I just had to call someone and tell them immediately. I tried calling everyone else, but you were the first person that actually answered.”

“Because I was the only idiot that would answer a three-a.m. call from a private number.” Mercedes grumbled, sitting up to rest her back on the doorframe. “Why are you calling from a private number anyway?”

“Guess who’s phone I’m using to call you? And before you guess incorrectly, no, it’s not Barbra or Bette. But, it is another one of my favorite Jews! Can you guess?” Rachel asked eagerly. “I’m gonna tell you if you don’t guess it in the next five seconds.”

“I don’t really know, Rachel. My thoughts on show-biz Jews aren’t favorable at the moment.” Mercedes grumpily replied, side-eyeing her phone. “Who?”

“Fran Drescher!” A beat of confused silence from Mercedes followed. “Alright, I know what you’re thinking. Since when is Fran Drescher one of my favorite Jews? And your second question is probably, how in the world did I meet her, right?”

“Yes and yes.”

“Well, while I’ve never been a long-time fan of The Nanny, partly because of its mixed reputation in the Jewish community and partly because my dads wouldn’t allow me to have any Hasidic female influences in risqué clothing with a comedy show on CBS, I found one of her memoirs in this quaint little bookstore in Brooklyn called David’s Stars, which I thought was such a cute spin on star of David since, y’know, they only sell Jewish literature and memorabilia, which is where, interestingly enough, I found the best freshly baked Italian baguettes I’ve ever found in the entire city, and they go darling with this green tea no whip frappe that I found at this new coffee shop I’m obsessed with—“

“Just get to the point, Rachel!”

“Okay!” Rachel pulled the phone away from her ear in disgust. “Someone’s not a morning person, obviously.”

“No, I’m not a three-a.m. morning person, Rachel. There’s a difference.” Mercedes explained, in annoyed deadpan. “Get to the point.”

“Right. So, I made the move to New York after graduation, as you well know, and found an agent. I took a brief break from auditioning after Finn and I broke up, just to give myself a month or two to grieve, process, and journal about it for my future autobiography, and tried my hand at being a waitress at this cute little dining masterpiece called the Spotlight Diner in Manhattan. Apparently, lots of actors apply to work there, since a lot of the Broadway and Hollywood elite stop by to dine there. Well, sure enough, the illustrious Ms. Drescher shows up at one of my tables! Word on the street was that she was trying to do a one-woman musical based on the series, but it never quite hit the ground running in the way she’d hoped. Naturally, being ever the chameleon, I walked to the table with a tray of hot mugs of lemon water, cool and collected, and opened with a modest and sincere compliment of her book. I even made references and quotes to prove that I wasn’t just another actor fishing for an opportunity.”

“But, you are just another actor fishing for an op—“

“Ah, ah! She didn’t have to know that!” Rachel indignantly insisted. “We ended up hitting it off really well, thank you very much. So much so that she called my agency the next day and asked for me! She said that she really liked my look—which is something I’ve never heard in my life—and wanted me to come and audition for her!”

That little tidbit actually woke Mercedes up. “Rachel, that’s amazing! So I’m assuming you got the part for….whatever the audition was for?”

“Wait, Mercedes! Let me tell the story!” Rachel laughed, happy to hear that she was finally awake and engaged. “So, at first, the audition doesn’t give any details, just that it was some new pilot that Ms. Drescher was pitching and she wanted some fresh talent. Then, during callbacks, we had to read a monologue piece for this character named “Eve”. And I thought that name sounded a bit familiar, like I’d heard it recently. Then, it occurred to me, I heard that name on an episode of The Nanny I’d watched the night before! You know, for research.” It shamed Rachel to admit that she’d gone on an entire series binge the day of her initial audition. Loathe as she was to admit it, gaudily dressed and brash Fran Fine was her new life icon. “Eve was the name of her character’s daughter! By the time I finally put two and two together, Ms. Drescher herself pulled me aside and told me that, although they hadn’t done official calls yet, that I’d gotten the part of Eve! They’re doing a sequel series to The Nanny called The Babysitter, centered around her daughter, Eve of course, who wants to become a famous actress. To do that, she believes that she has to step out of her rich and lavish lifestyle and really slum it with the masses, to get an idea of what it’s like to be a real working class woman.”

“You were literally cast as a TV version of yourself. I love it.” laughed Mercedes. “No wonder you were perfect for the role.”

“Eve decides to go back to her mom’s old neighborhood in Flushing to babysit her childhood best friend Val’s five kids. Naturally, hijinks and hilarity ensue. I’m so excited! This is my first major comedic role! It’s not Funny Girl or Broadway, but it’s certainly something big!” Rachel squealed. “I asked Ms. Drescher to borrow her phone so I could make calls to my family and friends because my phone died. I better go soon, though. I’ve been locked in her dressing room, making calls for the past hour. She might grow suspicious.”

“That’s amazing, Rach. I’m so, so proud of you.” Mercedes smiled, stifling a yawn. “And I’m glad you’re handing the Finn breakup so well.”

“Yeah, well…..” Rachel paused, shrugging off the bit of melancholy that passed over her. “We’re going in different directions right now. He’s run off to backpack in Fiji, of all god-forsaken places, to try and find himself. I wanted to be here in New York, starting my career. If our paths are meant to cross again, I’m sure it will. And when you think about it, the thought of us just continuing after high school was a bit much. I mean, who really has a lasting relationship with their high school sweetheart?” Rachel gasped and quickly covered her mouth, catching her own error. “Shit, I didn’t mean it like that, Mercedes. You and Sam are obvious exceptions.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I know.” But Mercedes’s reply was half-hearted and unconvincing, even to herself. She kept staring at the empty space and rumpled covers next to her, wondering where Sam had run off to. “Sam and I decided to get married this coming Monday, by the way. Did I tell you?”

“NO! No, you did NOT tell me, Mercedes Jones! Oh my god!” screamed Rachel, shrieking in excitement in Mercedes’s ear. “See? If I didn’t call you, I never would’ve known! You really need to start speaking up, girl.”

“Yes.” Mercedes rolled her eyes to the heavens. “Apparently, ‘not speaking up enough’ has become a new habit of mine.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll tell you later. Promise.” sighed Mercedes, rising to her feet. She had a sudden craving for some hot chocolate, now that she was fully awake. “But I really am happy for you, girl.”

Rachel grinned into her speaker, covering her mouth. “Thanks, diva. I knew I could count on you for support. But seriously, keep in touch, alright? Everyone from Glee club’s been in touch with everyone else but you and Sam. It’s like you guys are in a bubble or something.”

“A bubble that might’ve already burst.” Mercedes mumbled under her breath, tiptoeing down the stairs.

“Whadya say?”

“I said college is the worst. It eats up all of your time.” Mercedes flicked the lights on in the kitchen, slowly opening the cupboards to retrieve a pot, a giant mug and the appropriate ingredients to make a peppermint version of the classic holiday drink. It wouldn’t be Christmas without some form of peppermint. “Between my classes, work and functioning as a human being, I barely have time to look at my phone anymore. It’s been really hard, trying to be the ‘normal’ girl I was in high school.”

“Ugh, I know! Tell me about it. I’m glad I took some time off to audition and regroup. If I hadn’t, I might have missed this amazing opportunity!” gushed Rachel. Then, in an unusual display of selflessness, she continued, in the gentlest voice, “And despite whatever’s going on with you, I know your next opportunity is right around the corner. I see nothing but goodness for you too, Mercedes.”

The sentiment stunned her. “Thanks, Rachel.” she smiled, blinking away her tears when the contents of her pot began to bubble and rise on the stovetop. Turning off the burner, Mercedes walked softly to the fridge, careful to step over the creaking spots on the floor, for a carton of milk and some vanilla. Nettie always kept her vanilla in the fridge, to “keep it fresh”, as she explained. “The goodness I see seems so far away, but I know it’s real.”

“Of course it is, babe.” Rachel assured. “Happiness is just a……” A knocking sound interrupted on Rachel’s end. “Oh, I think I have to go. That’s my cue.”

“Go ahead, I understand.” Mercedes smiled half-heartedly, already saddened by her absence. Rachel had been a surprisingly welcome distraction. “I have to go, too. I’m making some peppermint hot chocolate.”

“Ooh, yum! Enjoy! And I’m so sorry I can’t be there for your wedding, but please tell the rest of the gang that you’re getting married on Monday. You need to have at least one of your friends there to support you! Are you planning on having an actual ceremony afterward or is it just the quick, courthouse way?”

“No, we do want a ceremony, eventually. We just got tired of not being married, you know? After all our time together, we might as well do it.” Mercedes cringed slightly at her own explanation. Surely, there were more romantic, loving ways to explain their choice to marry. “When we do have a ceremony, everyone’ll be invited, I promise. For now, it’ll just be us and the minister.”

“Well…ok, I guess. Not what I pictured for you guys, but It’s your life and I respect it.” Rachel replied, trying in vain to hide her reservations. “Can’t wait for the future wedding invite! Congrats to you both in advance!”

“Congrats to you too, girl! Talk to you again soon. Can’t wait to see you on TV!” Mercedes smiled at Rachel’s quick sentiments and goodbyes, ending the call before pouring herself a tall mug of hot chocolate. Leaning her back against the counter, she held the piping hot cup to her lips and let the steam waft across her nose, warming her face, before taking her first sip. The heat scalded her tongue a bit, but it felt deliciously comforting traveling down her throat. The lingering cool of peppermint invigorated her, and for a moment, it finally felt like Christmas.

Mercedes wandered to the living room to gaze at the Christmas tree. A quick glance toward the doorway as she passed made her realize that Sam’s shoes and jacket were missing. Instead of jumping to conclusions and fearing the worst, Mercedes chose to settle in on her grandmother’s recliner, nestled right next to the twinkling multicolored lights, and let the festive mood envelop her.

She hummed a version of Silent Night under her breath, one of her late grandfather’s favorite carols, in between sips from her mug, comforting herself as she waited for Sam to return from wherever he’d gone.

Because he would come back. He had to.

Sam wouldn’t abandon his family. He wouldn’t abandon her.

O-O

[simplemlmsponsoring]

New Post has been published on https://simplemlmsponsoring.com/attraction-marketing-formula/list-building/the-15-most-powerful-words-in-subject-lines/

The 15 Most Powerful Words in Subject Lines

Article first published June 2014. Updated January 2019.

The inbox can be a hostile place. With a million other emails jostling for your subscribers’ limited attention, it’s important that you make your subject line stand out – and get your email opened. So, what works best?

We pored through thousands of campaigns to shortlist 15 popular words – and find out what makes an effective subject line.

While we’d love to say that we’ve found the “silver bullet” to getting people to open your email, our research indicates that, so far, there is no magical formula or golden combination of words that can guarantee an open. Sorry, everyone. What works best for a particular piece of content in one industry, does not ensure the same responses with another.

But, if you look at the data, there are certain patterns that emerge. So we can certainly provide pointers on how certain words perform, as well as practical tips for writing subject lines.

Finding our “Power Words”

In our initial study on subject line performance, we decided to look at how specific words influenced the open rates of campaigns overall.

We realized that in order to really understand the performance of certain words, we needed both a control group and a test group for comparison, being campaigns with words we had narrowed down for analysis.

Both the control and our test group made use of the same lists (minimum of 500 subscribers) between January 1, 2013 until March 31, 2014. In order to have enough data to be significant, the list had to receive at least 10 campaigns over that period.

This resulted in a sample of 3,941,735,015 recipients, from 360,872 campaigns and 11,207 lists.

From this modest sample, we narrowed down the most frequently used words that featured at the beginning and end of subject lines, then compared the open rates between our two groups to determine which words performed better, that is, which words increased the chance of an email being opened.

It’s cheesy, but we’ll call these high-performers our Power Words.

So, what makes a Power Word?

First, some quick notes about our word shortlist.

While some words boosted a subject line’s success when they featured as either the first or last word (eg. “Invitation”, or dates), others only provided a notable open % uplift at one end or the other of a subject line.

This is in part due to grammatical correctness: For example, a pronoun like “We” or present participle like “Introducing” would seldom feature at the end of a sentence.

Personally, I think it’s important to make these distinctions if only to highlight that word order and, more importantly, context matters.

As much as it would be lovely to string words together and see your open rates go up exponentially, there are no shortcuts to the ideal subject line.

We’ll share with you some of our other observations and advice, but let’s get into Power Words already:

First word: Open % Change Last word: Open % Change [firstname,fallback=customer], (what’s this?) 14.68% Invitation 9.45% 7.69% Introducing 7.36% We 5.87% A 4.09% Your / You / You! 4.07% 6.20% Year, eg. 2014 3.89% 2.84% Update 3.69% New 3.26% Month name, eg. June 3.25% 3.34% Special / Specials 2.75% 2.08% News 1.31% 2.22% Sale / Sale! 2.40% Events 1.97% Offer / Offers 1.86%

So now that you’ve seen how Power Words can increase your open rate, let’s dig into the context that makes these words effective.

How can I improve my subject lines?

Power Words reveal a few lessons about how to rock your email subject lines. Keeping the above list in mind, we’ve highlighted a few key points that will help you achieve compelling subject lines that get the clicks you want.  

Catch your subscriber’s attention with more precise personalization

It’s said that a person’s favorite word is their own name, and the open rate above backs this up. Without a doubt, subject lines that are personally addressed to the recipient fare better than more generic greetings.

Using personalization tags in the email header is a great way to capture attention. See how it stands out?

Source: Biz Journals.

However, personalization extends beyond using a person’s name. You won’t fool anyone into thinking you care about them by including a short code that drops their name into the subject line and calling it done. Your recipients are smarter, seasoned in all the ways that marketers try to get their attention.

Instead, set yourself apart from the other emails in their inbox by taking advantage of data collection to create more bespoke subject lines. Doing so signals relevance and gives your recipient more of a reason to click on your email.

You can use things like:

Birthdays and anniversaries Recent interactions with your site or brand Location Interests Information provided via surveys and feedback

To get the full scoop of how powerful personalization can really be, check out our guide on email personalization.

Leverage pronouns to deepen relationships

Don’t have your subscribers’ names handy? The popularity of “We” and “You/Your” shows that subject lines which address the reader are more likely to get a response if you’re using them well.

On one hand, pronouns are a short cut to personalization. According to linguists, they indicate relationships. Pronouns signal recognition between the individuals involved in the exchange.

For example, consider the fact that we’ve used the second person (you) to address you throughout this article. The pronoun helps us adopt a more conversational tone. Imagine if we’d chosen to avoid mentioning you at all. This post would sound a lot like we were talking to a wall rather than a person or it would read like an essay. Who wants to read that? 

In emails, pronouns operate the same way and you can leverage this feature in your subject line.

On the other hand, customers will recognize when you’re trying to create an artificial rapport with them. This occurs when customers don’t feel that a relationship exists with the brand in the first place. In such cases, the use of “we” to refer to the company and customer together arouses suspicion. It makes people wary of what you’re really up to.

Choose your pronouns carefully to elicit reactions, deepen relationships, and, yes, increase your email marketing open rates.

Inspire a sense of urgency and excitement

Urgency inspires action. So it’s no surprise that many of the Power Words on our list are either time-sensitive or evoke exclusiveness.

Holding your subscribers to a deadline to act or letting them know that they’re specially invited to partake can be a very persuasive tactic. Some psychological forces come to play here such as our innate hierarchy of needs.

Every Power Word on the list above plays to one of these needs. Likewise, these Power Words tell us that certain situations create excitement and urgency:

The fear of missing out on a scarce item Deadlines to sign up, register for or buy something A sense that something is not well-known or available to the general public The opportunity to save money A solution to a problem The impression that something is new, innovative, and unique

A sense of urgency relies on creating meaning, demand, and value. What are you doing for your reader, and how might it affect them if they miss out?

Wrap up

These 15 Power Words to use in your email subject lines reveal a lot more than you’d think: They show how readers perceive and interact with the emails we send them.

In short, readers are more likely to engage with your email if they feel like you are speaking directly to them. Addressing people by name is an excellent tactic. Taking extra steps to personalize your subject line helps readers spot your email in a list of senders vying for their attention.

Leveraging words which promote and deepen relationships also promotes engagement when done right. Finally, indicating value and meaning helps create demand and excitement. Power words which elicit urgency take advantage of psychology to incite action.

Keeping in mind that the percentage changes noted above can be quite minimal in the grand scheme of things, it’s worth looking at subject line optimization within the bigger picture of open rate-maximizing tactics, including ensuring you keep a clean, engaged list and well, get into the inbox in the first place.

The post The 15 Most Powerful Words in Subject Lines appeared first on Campaign Monitor.

Read more: campaignmonitor.com

[serpentdeflector]

An Important Message

Some of you probably know, most of you don't, but I have been struggling greatly with gastrointestinal issues for the better part of a year and a half now.  I'll spare you the details (and trust me, this is a good thing), but suffice it to say I have missed a ton of work, spent an enormous amount of time arguing with (and even more time attempting to get a hold of someone at) my insurance company, and overall been impacted much more than just a little tummy ache.  In addition to my primary care provider, I have seen three different gastroenterologists, an endocrinologist, had three different nuclear medicine scans, 3 CT scans, 4 endoscopies, 3 colonoscopies, a capsule endoscopy, and made three trips to the emergency room.  No one could figure out what the issue was.  I have no tumors anywhere (thank God), no Crohn's Disease, no Colitis, just a mild case of gastritis (inflammation of the stomach) in addition to the aforementioned symptoms.  I responded to no medication that was tried (and we tried enough medications that I could open a CVS).

I tell you all this not to engender sympathy, but rather so you understand the level of my frustration when each of the three gastroenterologists gave me the old shoulder shrug and said "I have nothing else i can do here".

Last week after my most recent colon/endoscopy, I had enough.  I had a copy of my full medical chart sitting on my dining room table, a result of me being a complete asshole to my primary care provider, but I digress.  I sat at the dining room table last Monday pouring over the records, looking for something someone missed.  I am not a doctor, so as you can guess, I didn't find too much.  So I took my search to the internet.  Google didn't give me much help - my symptoms were more closely aligned to all of the conditions that had already been ruled out than anything else I found.  On a whim I went to Reddit and started reading the AskDocs and Medical subreddit.  After a couple hours of digging, I found someone reference a condition called Habba Syndrome.

Habba Sydrome is not something you will find in any book of known and accepted medical conditions.  I would reckon well over 99% of doctors currently practicing have never heard of it.  Certainly none of my dream team had.  But it matched every single symptom I have had.  It was discovered by a doctor in Northern New Jersey named Saad Habba.  I am being completely honest when I say Dr. Habba saved my life, because I was at my wit's end.  Dr. Habba had a hypothesis, that Irritable Bowel Syndrome, which millions of people around the world have been diagnosed with, and is commonly called a diagnosis of exclusion - i.e. we've ruled everything else out, so we'll call it this - was nothing more than something innovated by Drug Companies in order to sell more drugs.  He did some research, enlisting 302 people with IBS diagnoses.  He found that 298 of these people (that's 98.7% if you're scoring at home) actually had an underlying cause for their symptoms that was missed by doctors.  A full 41% (that's 124 patients) had a dysfunctional, intact gallbladder, accompanied by chronic diarrhea (sorry, said i wasn't going to mention it, and trust me it's much worse than you are picturing, but it's germaine to the discussion at this point).   He gave these patients an anti-cholesterol drug that works by binding bile salts (the gallbladder stores bile, and is supposed to release it when you eat a particularly fatty meal, as bile breaks down fats so they can be digested), and found that literally within days, every single one of these 124 patients reported significant improvement in their symptoms.  I went back and looked at the scan of my gallbladder I had done, and it showed my gallbladder to be a bit overactive, but the doctor who read the scan decided this wasn't of concern, or unremarkable, as they say in the biz.

It was at this point, and at nearly 5:00 in the morning (sorry Shari) that I knew I was driving to Summit, NJ to meet this man.  The following day, I presented my case to my primary care doctor, who was blown away, and agreed that I needed to see Dr. Habba.  

Yesterday morning, Shari and I sat in traffic on I-95 in order to meet Dr. Habba at 10:45.  As an aside, I had begun taking the medication last Wednesday, and had started to feel significantly better.  Still, I made the trip, one, to thank this man profusely for saving my life, and two, to ensure that there were no other concerns, as it was clear to me at this point that Dr. Habba is not your run of the mill doctor.  As I recounted my history over the last year plus to Dr. Habba, the amount of times he nodded his head in agreement, or commented that a test or procedure I had was completely necessary, I couldn't help but smile.  He gets it.  Too many doctors settle for the simple (incorrect) diagnosis, collect their money from the unethical and flat out criminal insurance companies, and tell you to follow up in a year, whilst providing no relief to their patients.  I get that the Hippocratic Oath says Do No Harm, but perhaps they need to re-word it to Do Whats Right.

After I finished my spiel, Dr. Habba agreed that I was a prototypical case of Habba Syndrome.  He wanted to do an additional test to ensure my pancreas is working properly, but otherwise had no other concerns.  Before he let me leave, though, he said something that I will take with me for as long as the good Lord lets me wreak havoc on this mortal Earth.  He said "Mr. Fanelli, I have been doing this for 39 years.  I don't need the money, and I don't need awards.  I am doing this to help people like you."  At this point, I had begun to cry, which had become rather commonplace for me over the past few weeks.  I guess getting old and being really sick makes even the most cynical pricks emotional.  He continued, "There are people all over the world who come to see me, as far as Hong Kong, but there are many more who cannot.  I ask one thing of you.  Go and spread the word.  Tell people that it is not OK to suffer.  If you are not getting answers, don't give up hope, keep fighting."

And so, after a couple thousand words, we've gotten to my point.  If any of you are struggling with an illness, don't quit.  If you need someone to talk to, I am here to listen.  No one should ever feel the way I've felt.  No one should ever feel that their doctor does not care about them.  The Affordable Care Act has done a lot of good for this country - look no further than Jimmy Kimmel's monologue from last night for proof.  However, one of the unfortunate downsides is that our doctors are now flooded with patients who probably don't need medical attention, and in turn, our doctors are spending less and less time actually thinking about and reviewing their patient's concerns.  If you are not getting answers from your doctor, go find one who will.  They are out there.  I am very blessed to have a primary care physician who is extremely thorough, understanding, and forgiving of complete douchecanoes like me.  If you do not feel that way about your doctor, find someone who is.  You may not need it now, but sometime down the road, it will benefit you.  We need more Dr. Habbas in this world, and the only way that can happen is if people like me tell his story and encourage others to demand more from their doctors.  

If you've made it this far, thank you.  Please help me spread the message, as it vitally important.  

[automationgeeks]

What's The Difference: Writing An Article Vs Writing A Blog Post - How Writers Can Earn More

Which is kind of the thing about most blogging advice.

Your service or product is your voice, Your area of expertise is your worldview.

Your interests and passions range across a whole inner landscape. It's a well fiction Writer. Relates to why readers get obsessed with books and authors, the things that keep the writer up at night. With that said, this also encourages people to find that core thread in their work -the questions you mention. I have one client with whom I always use the word article when talking about these pieces, and another with whom I use the word blog.

Time to raise my rates for the blog client and remember to use the word article when appropriate!

Not surprisingly, rates for my article client are a big bit higher than my blog client for quite similar work.

Danielle, there's nobody best thing to blog about if there were, every single blog will be about it, right? It's intending to depend on your experience and interests, and your research into whether a particular niche is easily monetized or not. Their audience doesn't care. However, a couple of us are sticklers for grammar and some not, Shivani…I know p bloggers who have a typo in every article, and are earning huge sums. With all that said... It depends on the audience. I'm sure it sounds familiar. I've even seen ebooks that are riddled with grammar and spelling quite a few more at $ 600- $ 2000, determined by length and complexity. Remember, where most writers are lucky to get $ 100 a post for blog posts and I recommend you try to make that your floor for blog writing article rates are usually a whole lot better.

One difference between a blog post and a magazine article is that blog posts often contain links to other posts on a company's site, that is a means of keeping the reader on the site for as long as possible.

They are written so that shows readers how they can benefit from these services, albeit these can be articles.

Articles for corporate blogs, for sake of example, often discuss some problem in the industry and after that illustrate how the company is working to solve it. I agree that posts are essentially articles and might be compensated as such, especially when you must have deep knowledge of a company or industry to write the material, the word blog sounds hipper. Blog posts are often written with the intention of convincing readers that they need a particular service offered by the company. Let me tell you something. These posts have great value to companies as they may result in thousands of dollars of business every time a tally new client is acquired and a sale is made. I think they thought they'd get a n of unqualified people if they knew who the employer was.

I responded to one ad once, for example, and it turned out to be a website owned by CBS. I agree quite a few there are scams, there can be legit reasons for not revealing the company. Recently, I got plenty of response to my call for freelance writers to stop writing blog posts. Lots of writers were confused about just what the difference is. That's not the dividing line. Shampa, look, there're certainly articles that lack interviews, and blog posts that have them. I mean technically, an article is in a magazine, and a blog post is on a blog…but the point of my article is that if you look for to be paid more for blogging, you have to do work more on the order of what you'd do for a typical article namely, interviews and more indepth research. Nonetheless, sEO focused junk writing will never pay well, and it's also a shrinking marketplace, would start moving away from the stigma of a blog post being a cheap fix. Here's what to do instead. It doesn't have to be complex. Normally, even simple sentences can be well written. As a result, I disagree with you on one point. For example, it's a really helpful post. We must always encourage people to write with correct spelling and grammar as that helps the case for clear writing. However, they presented interesting data. Posts got longer as bloggers sought to stand out and deliver more value, until 1000 words has become fairly standard, and 2000 word posts are not uncommon. Blog posts began to have more interviews. Nevertheless, sEO keywords' value lessened as Google cracked down on 'keywordstuffed' content. As blogs got more professional, lots of hired editors. Sometimes these get mixed by many who may consider it to be essentially identical. Very much interesting and enlightening comparison which most people often miss. Thanks and I going to be sharing. You see, this excellent write up will also what actually is expected of them as they take a venture. Notice that you also get the bonus of learning to report a story, that lays the groundwork for getting betterpaying articles in future, from businesses or magazines.

Have the advantage of giving you more impressive clips for your portfolio, loads of smaller daily papers pay in the $ 75- $ 100 range for short articles. I would like to ask you something. I am working on my autobiography and someone suggested that I do a blog instead but I have to find out whether that is the writer forum for my story plus how do I protect the rights to my story?

Will you not suggest writing an autobiography on a blog?

I come from a journalism background so I'm comfortable with the more traditional article approach.

I've tried doing some seo content writing and found it really difficult and not very enjoyable. Thanks for the clarification, it's really useful to be aware of this developing trend. We look for posts to be fun and easy to read, not stuffy and dry. We expect factual and wellsourced posts, not rambling rehashes of other people's work or wild conjecture, Accuracy and strong attention to detail are an absolute must. Now let me tell you something. It's a good idea to also be cognizant of online publishing realities and be able to use key search engine keywords in your posts and headlines without sounding robotic, you must have an ideal ear for language.

It's a high visibility opportunity and we are looking for the very best writing talent, that is why we pay a premium over other blogs. We look for to hear from you, Therefore if you think you are a great fit. I have recently started my own blog. Actually, I also write poetry. Also, how should I market that to my readers? I'm sure you heard about this. In order for me to get it up and running I've been doing some research. Should that also correlate to your blog, as far as the articles. Is it best to keep it to the theme of the blog or write about what interests you? So, my question for you is what really is better thing to blog about? I like the fact that you distinguished between an article and a blog. It must definitely stick to a niche, though all successful blogs do.

I have a couple resources to recommend on blogging I learned to build my blog from AList Blogging's Kickstart Your Blog course, and my How to Be a Well Paid Freelance Blogger e book is packed with tips on how to leverage your personal blog to get paying gigs from clients.

Your blog post has come out at the right time.

I am sure they need to be educated about the difference between blog post and article. Basically, I wish to say that all the time, those hire writers are not clear about exactly what they look for. It's more ‘blog post' type writing than article writing. Besides, I wouldn't expect to be well paid for this work type. Since you're not adding any value, simply recycling previously written biographies is more of a blog post.

Uneducated clients who don't really know these two forms been busy muddying up the conversation about them for years. That's made it hard for writers to define writing projects and bid them appropriately. Mostly, copyright attaches at the time of publication on your blog, and you can prove when you wrote it because of how blogs date things…and who is planning to steal your life story? I think most people who're blogging a book don't put it all on their blog they put parts of it, and similar parts are exclusive to the final book. For instance, probably not a huge concern. Lots of print magazines began posting copies of their articles online. They published more opiniondriven pieces from thought leaders. Some also put up blogs where they let writers hit the ‘publish' button on their own. That's interesting. Suddenly, magazine headlines needed to drive traffic, just like blogpost headlines, and headline styles evolved. Yes, that's right! On the 'articlewriting' side, there was also movement. Now look. They impress more of your client's customers.

Then the projects might be more successful, and those clients gonna be more going to hire you back to write more.

As long as they'll be happier with the results they get, it's a classic 'win' you can charge more at the start. I'm sure that the fact is, articles and articlestyle blog posts convey more authority. Do not send story clips as an attachment. Nonetheless, applications that do not meet shall not be considered really. Now regarding the aforementioned fact... Your email subject line must read gooseberry application followed by your full name or it may be deleted, when responding. Please also include three brief story ideas that meet the criteria outlined above so we can get a feeling of your understanding of the audience and the foregoing story guidelines. Your resume might be a single attachment to your email.

Please send your resume, a letter of interest, and clips to published samples of work that is of relevance to the individual biz space.

Blog posts are growing up they're increasingly not the ugly stepsister of articles.

Good news is, the convergence of blog posts and articles should offer writers better pay opportunities. They ought to pay more like the articles they often are. Yes, occasionally a real company wanders on there and posts, not this kind of a poor reputation with freelancers for offering up mostly junk. I know an awful lot of writers for whom $ 2K a month for writing one post a day would've been heaven, Amel! By the way, a long 'writeup' that does not contain any interview and is written about the achievements of some great personalities hereafter in that case, will this work be called an article or blog? Is interview necessary for an article? Oftentimes I know blog is a first person writeup but the write up I am talking about is in third person but is simply based upon biography so, how must I term it?

[strangledeggs]

What A Glorious Time To Be Free

This is a more personal essay on irony, the passage of time and disillusionment. Content Warning for mention of domestic abuse/violence.

“Singer-songwriter” is a term that tends to instantly conjure a certain type of “sincere” musician, one who wants to communicate a “real” feeling through their combined proficiency in words and music. The notion of sincerity in this context is at least a little odd considering many of the most famous songwriters have made careers out of ironic jabs at the very cliches they like to flirt with; Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen come to mind. And yet somehow, whether or not this stereotype has any truth to it has done nothing to dispel the cultural image of the “sincere, sensitive songwriter”.

If you’re anything like me, you’ve been closely tracking the apparent dichotomy between “irony” and “sincerity”, their varying popularities, the spaces in which each seems most prevalent, how these factors can impact culture on a grand scale. I can still remember three years ago when an English professor at the University of Toronto introduced me to one of my favourite ideas I’ve taken out of my education so far: he too had noted a sort of struggle between irony and sincerity in culture over the last several decades, but he felt that the most current art (literature, at least) was finding a sort of compromise. He called this compromise “birony”. “Bironic” art (no relation to the “Byronic hero”, an unfortunately phonemically identical literary concept) would refuse to be seen as either sincere or ironic alone. It is instead both genuine and self-distancing at the same time. One example he had pointed to was Gary Shteyngart’s “Super Sad True Love Story”. I believe I may have dug up another from pop music history.

The song in question, Donald Fagen’s “I.G.Y.” (also apparently known as “What A Beautiful World”), actually predates the contemporary era of which my English professor declared birony to be the product. It was released in 1982, in the midst of the Cold War. I will address the significance of this in just a bit, but first I’d like to explain out why this song’s bironic tone was apparent to me almost from the start. Some background is needed for those who are unfamiliar with Donald Fagen: the man was half of the songwriting team that made up the popular 70s rock band Steely Dan. Along with Walter Becker, he wrote songs with a bitter satirical edge, tackling Las Vegas (“Show Biz Kids”), generational conflict (“Barrytown”), nuclear apocalypse (“King of the World”) and any idealist with a glimmer of a hope for freedom (“Only A Fool Would Say That”).

Certainly some of Fagen’s solo work continues in this ironic tradition, but “I.G.Y.” is noticeably different. Having come to its hosting album “The Nightfly” with only that tradition as my context, I was rather shocked to hear the lyrics of “I.G.Y.”, which seem to describe an ideal vision of the future (superfast intercontinental transit! space travel! government by supercomputer!) without a hint of irony. The refrain (from which part of the alternate title is derived) proclaims “What a beautiful world it will be, / What a glorious time to be free!”, backed by a chorus and a light reggae-esque shuffle. Is this the same Donald Fagen that sang “I heard it was you talking ‘bout a world where all is free, / It just couldn’t be”?

Something was definitely off, and being suspicious as I was, I decided to do some research. It turned out my naive millenial self was missing some generational context that would have made the title more illuminating had I been born say, 50 years earlier: “I.G.Y.” was actually an acronym, referring to the “International Geophysical Year”, a period of scientific collaboration between 1957 and 1958. During this relatively peaceful patch of the Cold War, over sixty countries began working on science projects that would come to define the aesthetics and ideas of “the future” for the generation that grew up over the course of the 1950s, including solar power, spandex and the very first satellites.

Donald Fagen, born in 1948, would have been approximately 10 years old during this period. It is possible that the projected potential of these futuristic technologies in development would have sparked his imagination, causing it to run wild with utopian visions. I say this partly because I am consciously projecting here; I know, had lived during the I.G.Y. (particularly if I was the same age Fagen was at the time), that I would have been absolutely ecstatic with optimism. It’s a nerd kid’s dream come true: everyone gets to live happily ever after and it’s all thanks to SCIENCE!

When I was a teenager, my father, who more or less lived right through this period, showed me a book he had called “Wasn’t The Future Wonderful?” Released in 1979, the book collected various images from the 1930s that depicted the imaginary technology of “the future” and helped to spawn the still-popular aesthetics of “retrofuturism” (see: Fallout). Though it focuses on a period almost thirty years prior to the I.G.Y., the book captures a similar naivety. It’s not to say that many of the projects of the I.G.Y. didn’t have real, useful results, or that the promises weren’t delivered on; we still got spandex and solar power and the space race. But the title’s retrospective quality is telling, as is our current condition. Clearly we are not living in the futuristic utopia of the Jetsons.

This was likely to be even more apparent to someone like Fagen, who lived not only through the I.G.Y., but also through the 24 years leading up to 1982*, in which he released “What A Beautiful World”. During that time, the relative period of Cold War peace ended and US citizens witnessed the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Vietnam War, the assassination of a president and a period of tension so high that Prince had to beg “Ronnie” Reagan to “Talk To Russia” in the year before Fagen’s first solo album. In addition to all this, before most of these events even happened, Russia tested the largest thermonuclear weapon developed to that point in history, the “Tsar Bomba”, in 1961. It would seem to even the most optimistic American that the future was not as friendly as it had seemed even a few years earlier.

I’m not Donald Fagen and I’ve never even met the man, so I can’t claim to know how any of this really impacted him. But there’s a certain narrative that, even if it isn’t true, would go a long way towards explaining what happened to him between 1958 and 1982 that led to his writing “I.G.Y.” Put simply, Fagen might have experienced a classic “loss of innocence” narrative: he began as a young idealist around the time of the I.G.Y., hoping that science could lead to a more peaceful and prosperous world; he then watched those hopes crumble over the next couple decades as widespread violence and accompanying disillusionment returned with a vengeance, eventually ending up the cynical songwriter he was in Steely Dan.

Whether or not this is really what happened to Fagen himself, it would make a nice frame for why I’ve come to see the song as a prime example of “birony”. Knowing the historical context for “I.G.Y.” will make it seem much more like the ironic critiques he contributed to his former band. However, I believe there is still a hint of sincerity in the song. If you forget the historical context, it sounds like a fairly genuine hope for the future, as if Fagen’s 10-year-old self suddenly re-surfaced to sing it. And maybe some part of him still has those same hopes, that one day society could achieve the sort of technological utopia his song describes. But in the end, the disillusionment is inevitable, as we continue to see more than thirty years on from the song’s release.

The lyrics, of course, sound sincere enough to still make you believe (and to fool those lacking the historical context). Some would say this is part of the “trick” that makes it so ironic. I’d go even further and say this actually teaches us something new about irony, at least in this context: irony is not, in fact, the polar opposite of sincerity. Contrary to what we are often told, there is something quite sincere about the irony of “I.G.Y.” The lyrics could not have been written without a sincere belief at some point (maybe Fagen’s, maybe someone else’s) that their ideal world was a real possibility. And at the same time, the disappointment collected over the years up until the song’s release is also quite sincere. The song becomes a serious lament that this type of utopia might never have even been possible in the first place. Thus its “ironic distancing” is actually comprised of two very sincere beliefs, one of which just happens to contradict the other.

Is this still irony? Or is it that new invention of my English professor, “birony”? I’m not entirely sure if I can answer that question alone, or at least not without a much more in-depth study than this one. However, I would like to change direction here for a moment and point out once again that I don’t actually know whether or not this is even the “true” story of “I.G.Y.” I say this because even if it isn’t, I brought it up for a reason: the disillusionment narrative I constructed behind it is actually quite personal. OK, yeah, I didn’t live through the Cold War, and I’ve never written a song as great as “I.G.Y.” and probably never will. But the song’s implicit “fall from grace” arc hits me on a, shall we say “scientific” level.

Growing up, I took a serious interest in science, probably in part because my father was one himself (a geologist, for those who are curious). Our family wasn’t really religious at all and I ended up with a much stronger belief in the “power of science” than in any kind of divine order of things. I took this interest/belief with me through school, which won the approval of many teachers who in our age seem to increasingly associate studious/successful children with such a scientific focus. And then somewhere in high school it began to slip. I say this not only because I started to realize I would never be able to become a scientist myself (my math grades made sure of this) and not because I stopped taking science courses to focus on other subjects, which I didn’t do but in hindsight maybe should have. I continued to learn a lot about science, but I also started to learn about other subjects which were a little more critical of the discipline. A basic philosophy class helped me realize how hard it is to have a strong foundation for any kind of concrete belief, including those implicit in the scientific method. Some historical background on eugenics made me realize that people could use public faith in science as an excuse to violate others’ human rights just the same as religious institutions had abused their power. Suddenly, scientists were no longer clearly “the good guys”.

This is not to try and create a narrative of “enlightenment” for myself. The ending of this story is not that I “now know better” and I’m not claiming to have answers to any of the philosophical problems I raised. All I’m trying to prove here is that my beliefs in science were shaken in a similar (though probably less violent) manner to those of a 10-year-old kid coming out of the warmth of the I.G.Y. and into the Cold War. Nowadays, though I’m still inclined to believe most scientists on a number of things, I’m significantly more skeptical of “science” as a cultural institution or as a justification for anything. We probably all have stories like this, stories in which we grew up believing strongly in something only to have that belief turned upside-down later in life. These disillusionments can sometimes have devastating effects on us, radically changing the people we once thought ourselves to be into other people entirely. Sometimes it’s relatively inconsequential, but most of the time it’s at least somewhat painful.

It just so happens that I experienced another painful disillusionment along these lines more recently. As you can probably deduce through my familiarity with their work, I used to listen to Steely Dan a lot, particularly when I was a teenager (coincidentally, right around the time I started to become more suspicious of science). This, too, I inherited from my parents, who were big fans back in their high school and university days when the band still existed. I was impressed by their musicianship, their refusal to distinguish between rock and jazz and, of course, their slyly biting lyrics which I only appreciated more over time. Naturally, I got into Donald Fagen’s post-Dan solo career and loved it almost as much. I guess you could say I sort of idolized the guy. And being disposed to an “innocent until proven guilty” method of judging people, I assumed he was probably at the very least a decent enough person. It’s true that the lyrics in certain Steely Dan songs displayed tendencies towards the fetishization of Asian women (“Bodhisattva”) or creepy relationships with “barely legal” girls (“Hey Nineteen”), but I was hoping these were simply mistakes that Fagen since recognized and regretted.

Early in January last year, it was reported that Donald Fagen had beaten his wife, Libby Titus, and that she was going to divorce him. Apparently the two have since “reconciled”, though exactly how is unclear and I remain very suspicious of Fagen for doing such a terrible thing in the first place. I am also concerned for his wife as I am for any partner caught in a situation of potential domestic violence. However, not being an expert on the situation or the subject, I will leave the social issue to those experts dedicated to solve it. What I am more qualified to write about is the strange disillusionment that occurs when something like this happens, when a public figure breaches trust with an audience that has inevitably deified them.

There’s a whole discourse on the idea of the famous talent that does something their audience doesn’t agree with morally, turning them into the “problematic fave”, but there are some acts which shift from “problematic” into a deeper level of criminality and Donald Fagen’s abuse falls into the latter category. Some tend to reject the talent outright following such acts and I completely understand that course and the reasons for doing it. But I can’t seem to do it with Donald Fagen and his music. This is not because I don’t think the issue is important; it absolutely is, and I will continue to tell people about what Donald Fagen did to at the very least alert people to the fact that he’s probably not the “generally decent person” I once assumed he was and at most help to spark more conversations about domestic violence. Hopefully we will also see a point at which Libby Titus is safe, though this is something few of us will get to have any say in.

The truth is, I could renounce my love for Steely Dan and Donald Fagen and whatever part of myself was shaped by their music. I can (and have) felt bad listening to it when I think of the man behind it. But I would be lying to myself if I said that I didn’t enjoy it anymore and that I didn’t want to listen to it again. The music still reaches me and I don’t think I can do anything about that.

So the music remains. What about the man himself? Well, I certainly won’t be giving him any more of my money any time soon. Of course, there’s that disillusionment again. And once again, both the love for the music and the disillusionment with the person are real. It’s difficult to discover that someone you saw as a hero simply isn’t. Some would probably say that this is simply the way life moves and that this is how we learn over time; we must abandon our heroes and our worship of outside forces to somehow achieve an enlightenment through our trust in our own perceptions alone, recognizing that everyone else is as fallible as we are. Personally, I don’t buy this logic, partly because I don’t believe that there is any “authentic self” underneath the self I’ve built through following others and partly because I do believe that some people are less fallible than me, at least in some areas. Those people are the heroes, and though they may become damaged by revelation of their natures, we still tend to have some sort of need for them, although some more than others.

I certainly still feel like I need heroes to follow and shape myself in the image of, but maybe I need to take a more bironic (again, not “Byronic”) approach to them. I can’t follow in their footsteps knowing that they are the kind of people I don’t ever actually want to become. But at the same time, I often have some grain of admiration I can’t seem to shake; some trust in the scientists that develop vaccines and work towards automated labour, some emotions still stirred when I hear the winding chord changes of “Rikki Don’t Lose That Number”. It certainly doesn’t excuse Donald Fagen, and it’s not a way out of the social inequality in which he is an oppressor. But it at least helps to explain why I might still have seemingly contradictory reactions to such situations.

*This may be poorly phrased as to make it sound as if Fagen is deceased. He has actually continued to live up to this very year and recently gave an interview in which he described modern life as “resembling something out of a Vonnegut novel”.

[pathfinderwizard]

How do you self-teach graphic design anyways? (and for free or cheap too?)

Don’t I need a degree though?

If freelancing, it’s unlikely that your clients will care. Your portfolio will speak for you. Might be important for a big corp though. Could be the difference between a promotion or not. 

The relationships and networking are priceless. 

You’d get critique, feedback, perspective from so many different people including your professors who have likely worked in the industry before already. 

You’ll learn much more faster, with more structure, and not have to learn the hard way by making mistakes (as much). 

General Notes. Tips. Advice.

Pick a niche and/or target audience. 

Get inspiration! Browse other designers. Dribbble is a good place to start. 

Get involved locally. Events, groups, workshops. 

Set aside time blocks to learn. Schedule what you will focus on. 

Get experience working with web developers

Read books! There’s plenty of free pdfs online. Schedule a time block. 

Create your own syllabus with homework and due dates to help keep yourself structured and disciplined!

Learn to slaughter your work. Don’t waste time improving a design that just isn’t working. Trash it and start anew!

Find a group where you can get feedback. Reddit...Fb...

Create a lot! Theory is great and all but you got to put it to use creating deliverables!

Make sure you cover theory too though so you can understand how to truly create and understand why things work as opposed to just being a Photoshop master. Learn the rules before you break them

Find free online resources! (Future post idea?!)

Watch youtube videos!

Part of the reason we learn theory is so that we can honestly critique our work with knowledge to back it up. You won’t know you’re creating poor design without having ever studied it. Study theory! And then critique yourself.

Find work and recreate it for the sake of getting a better understanding of your tools and how things are done. Then take what you’ve learned and do a twist or create something original!

It is much more than just finding tutorials and copying them. That will only teach you to imitate but not to come up with original ideas and truly solve problems. 

Challenge yourself. Try new concepts, mediums, processes. 

What should I learn?

Technical

File types and prepping. What file types to save for what situations, bleeds, color separations, margins.

Writing skills 

Photoshop

Illustrator 

Logo design...and then expand into branding!

Mobile app design

Basic web design (this is not the same as web development)

HTML/CSS (huge bonus points!)

Handlettering is apparently in demand 

Drawing fundamentals x3

Basic UX design. 

Conceptual

Science of communication

Art of aesthetics

Graphic design theory 

Graphic design history

Basic biz skills for freelancing: learning client negotiation skills, how to create a proposal or design brief, how to price your work, how to write a contract, how to track your time, how to invoice your client in a professional manner, etc

How to present your design. Articulate and explain your choices made. 

Problem solving and critical thinking x6

Color theory

Idea generation

How to give and receive critique

Ok I feel ready! But I need a portfolio! What to put in it?

Find something poorly designed and redesign it. 

Mock up any ideas you have for websites, apps, shirts...

Google for design exercises to do. 

Work pro-bono for a non-profit or charity. 

Will be expanded in a later post...if not already

I have my portfolio. Now I need a job...

Once you start job hunting, tell everyone! You never know who someone knows.

Research companies you’re interested in. Then find someone on LinkedIn to try and connect with!

Refs:

https://design.tutsplus.com/articles/teach-yourself-graphic-design-a-self-study-course-outline--psd-3520

http://www.karenx.com/blog/how-to-become-a-designer-without-going-to-design-school/

https://www.rasmussen.edu/degrees/design/blog/things-self-taught-designers-dont-know-theyre-missing/

https://selfgrowth.com/articles/how-to-become-a-self-taught-graphic-designer

https://www.reddit.com/r/graphic_design/comments/2onjt3/if_you_had_to_start_from_the_scratch_and_teach/

https://www.reddit.com/r/graphic_design/comments/6r9ccz/most_important_thing_for_self_teaching/

https://www.reddit.com/r/graphic_design/comments/1ah0bk/graphic_design_self_study_guide/

https://www.reddit.com/r/graphic_design/comments/4vh2ht/go_to_college_for_graphic_design_or_teach_yourself/

[teritcrawfordca]

Be SEEN in 2019: Social Media, Personal Branding & Making Money at Tradeshows & Live Events

This week on #Smallbizchat LIVE, our show featured three guests: Designing a Powerful Social Media Plan for 2019 with Alex Romanovich, @alexromanovich, How to Make Money with Tradeshows & Live Events with Dianna Geairn, @iSalesGirl, and How to Grow Sales and  Your Business By Being a Celebrity CEO with Ramon Ray, @RamonRay.

I pulled three of the best questions from each of them to share with you. Every third Wednesday of the month, Smallbizchat LIVE is broadcast on my SmallBizLady Facebook Page, YouTube channel and on Twitter @SmallBizLady.

Alex Romanovich is the Founder, Managing Director and Chief Marketing Officer at Social2B, a digital and social media marketing boutique consultancy, assisting global brands (B2B and B2C) in leveraging new advances in digital and social media marketing, data analytics, and new omnichannel marketing strategies. You can learn more at www.social2b.com.

SmallBizLady: Does influencer marketing help any business?

Alex Romanovich: Yes, if you choose the right persons with a relevant audience. However, recent research and my panel discussion at AdWeek shows that Community based Engagement is much more powerful than influencer marketing, which is now being questioned by the consumer, and the brand itself.

SmallBizLady: How could brands surprise you with social media in the near future?

Alex Romanovich: Video content will become more search friendly and remain as an integral part of marketing on YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, and LinkedIn.

In 2019, you will see more of:

Live streaming for personalized outreach,

Video product demos,

360-degree videos, and

Personalized video messages from brands and prosumers alike

SmallBizLady: We talk a lot about personalization. What can you say about that?

Alex Romanovich: The first step is to make your future social media campaigns as personalized as possible. So, the personalization as the most powerful trend of the upcoming year should be a must for every brand that wants to get consumer’s attention. Personalization can extend from naming the consumer to embedding personalized greetings into video and other content, to creating personal responses in chatbots and using AI to gather personal information for special promotions.

  Dianna Geairn co-founded TradeShow Makeover to help companies STOP leaving money on the Trade Show Floor. With over 45 years of combined trade show experience, TradeShow Makeover clients achieve dramatically improved results from their investment in conferences, summits, trade shows, and expos. You can learn more at www.irreverentsalesgirl.com.

SmallBizLady: What business opportunities are available at LIVE events that you can’t get anywhere else?

Dianna Geairn: Trade shows, conferences, summits and expos create marketplaces with unique business opportunities for companies who know how to capitalize on them. Unfortunately, most companies don’t know how to make the most of what’s available – so they spend lots of money and come home with no new business. The top 3 opportunities that live events make available that are not available (or very hard to get) otherwise are:

Face-to-Face interactions. No matter how popular digital engagement has become, face-to-face human connections are still more powerful than any other kind of engagement. This is where we develop trust, rapport, and a willingness to engage in the future (provided the first meeting went well). 

STATISTIC: The cost of a face-to-face meeting with a prospect at a tradeshow is $142. The cost of a face-to-face meeting at a prospect’s office is $259. (Center for Exhibition Industry Research CEIR)

The Decision Maker’s Attention: In our research, executives and business owners tell us that while they are unwilling to answer phone solicitations or emails throughout the year, they specifically attend live events to meet with vendors and explore new business solutions. Think about all those ways you work to get an executive’s attention: Social Media, Content Creation, Emails, Phone Calls, Requests for Referrals. Executives mostly ignore you throughout the year. But, they are open to having these conversations while they are at a live event. If fact, many are going specifically for that reason.

STATISTIC:  92% of tradeshow attendees come to see and learn about what’s new in products and services. (CEIR)

Access to the Decision Maker’s checkbook: Executives come to find new vendors, new solutions. And many come with a budget. Unfortunately, most booth staffers don’t know how to engage them.

STATISTIC: 77% of executive decision makers found at least one new supplier at the last show they attended. (CEIR))

Sad Story: On Friday, I was talking with a CEO. He had just left a trade show of software suppliers and he was looking for a new partner. He had $50k to spend. Each booth he visited, he was ignored. The 2 people he engaged at booths took no time to find out about him and only “pitched” features and benefits. He left the show with $50k in his pocket, super frustrated and annoyed. The worst part? All those potential vendors have NO IDEA that they missed a sale!

SmallBizLady: What are the 3 biggest mistakes small businesses make when it comes to LIVE events?

Dianna Geairn:

They fail to prepare. Done well, a company can arrive at the event with meetings already scheduled, a plan to meet new qualified prospects with the perfect questions to ask new contacts, and a plan to follow up once they get home from the show, including the messaging and mediums you will use.

a. When you prepare for all aspects of the event BEFORE you go, it becomes easy to generate revenue from the show.

b. Much like Sun Tzu says in The Art of War “Victorious warriors win first and then go to war.”

They come to “pitch” their products instead of to create a memorable experience for their ideal customer that will leave them wanting to connect afterward (and remember who you are, so they take your meeting).

They don’t ask for the appointment. When someone is interested and you see a good fit, it is not time to ask for the sale – it’s time to ask for the appointment. Schedule time right there to talk after the show. Everyone has a smartphone or a calendar with them!

SmallBizLady: How do I decide which shows/conferences to attend?

Dianna Geairn: We recommend that, if you’re not familiar with a show, you should “walk” that show first. This will save you money and give you a flavor of what opportunities are available at the show (booth placement, special event sponsorship). If you’re familiar with the show and you know that your ideal customers are there, it may be a good opportunity to exhibit at the show. Work with the organizers to determine the opportunities they recommend for you to put your best foot forward. Ask a lot of questions. They know what works and what doesn’t about their show.

  Ramon Ray loves burnt pancakes, bacon and eggs. He is also a four-time entrepreneur, best-selling author, global speaker and event producer. Ramon sold one of the company’s he founded, his third book was a best-seller, and he’s in the process of writing his fourth book “Celebrity CEO”,  Ramon is the founder of SmallBizTechnology.com and Smart Hustle Magazine – two leading resources for all things small business startup and growth. You can learn more at https://www.ramonray.com.

SmallBizLady: What is personal branding and why is it so important?

Ramon Ray: Personal branding is NOT corporate branding. It’s about how YOU as a person, the owner of your smaller business are represented to clients and potential clients. It’s important in a marketplace where many services and products are the same—getting people to KNOW, LIKE and TRUST you as a person is important. Also, personal branding is about building a fan base, a community (not customers) who THEN want to buy from you

SmallBizLady: How do you start your personal branding if you are just starting out?

Ramon Ray:  Be yourself; don’t copy others. Think about what makes you different from others. What are you doing to enable your community to rally around your brand? The simple way to get started is “social media”—by regularly EDUCATING your audience, you’ll build trust and credibility. As you grow consider things like hosting events or getting media attention.

SmallBizLady: Why is video so important to you?

Ramon Ray:  Video humanizes and personalizes your brand. It gets your FACE in front of the customer and prospective customer. “Everyone” loves video (ie Hulu, Netflix, Prime Video). YOU as a small biz owner should use it too.

Watch this Facebook Live #Smallbizchat on Facebook by clicking HERE or you can check it out below:

Do you think you have what it takes to be a guest on #Smallbizchat? Click here to submit your pitch.

Join us every Wednesday from 8-9 pm ET; follow @SmallBizChat on Twitter to stay up to date on our upcoming guests.

Here’s how to participate in #SmallBizChat: http://bit.ly/1hZeIlz

  The post Be SEEN in 2019: Social Media, Personal Branding & Making Money at Tradeshows & Live Events appeared first on Succeed As Your Own Boss.

from Teri Crawford Business Tips https://succeedasyourownboss.com/be-seen-in-2019-social-media-personal-branding-tradeshows/

[ncmagroup]

Hey creatives!

Let’s talk goals for a moment, shall we?

When it comes to goal-setting you will be forgiven to not take it seriously but…you actually should.

Goals should be more than a to-do list or a list of things you’d like to have or be.

They should serve as a reminder that it’s all possible, only if you put in the work.

Goals give you a purpose; they act as a roadmap to what you want to achieve and the life you desire.

So instead of wandering around aimlessly and just throwing everything at something to see what sticks, how about setting actionable goals that you will dedicate time working towards?

I know, saying it is one thing and actually writing down effective goals is another.

This is where this blog post comes in.

Take out that notebook and some pens and get ready to make some notes because today we’ll be talking about setting goals that actually work.

Long story short:

Ayy! I created a summary infographic.

Let’s dig into it, shall we?

1. Have Specific Goals

It’s simply not enough to write down vague goals or a goal that forms part of the bigger picture.

You need to be as specific as possible so that it can be easier to work towards that goal.

So instead of ‘Get more Instagram followers’ you could instead write, ‘Increase my Instagram followers by 400 targeted and engaged followers by the end of the month.’

Why does this work? It’s specific and it’s measurable.

You’ve stated that you need to work on getting 400 targeted and engaged followers and you’ve given yourself a time frame.

Now you can work on a strategy to reach that goal and because you have specified the goal, you have an idea of what need to be done to reach it.

Awesome, yeah?

I know!

2. Make Your Goals Achievable

This doesn’t necessarily mean having to be realistic. What even is being realistic when we live in a world of endless possibilities!?

Right!?

In this context making your goals achievable means breaking them up into little pieces so that you can be able to achieve that goal without being overwhelmed and running for the hills.

If your goal is to write a 10 000 words of something this month, you could break that number into something like 1 000 words a day for 5 days, with a 2-day break. Let’s look more into this:

Scary= 10 000 words between now and the end of the month

Not scary= 1 000 words for 5 days over 2 weeks with a 2-day break

When you make your goals achievable, you’re least likely to procrastinate or allow the sheer size of it to make you afraid and then not end up doing it at all.

I’m sure there was a time when you’ve set a goal that looked rather impossible and then decided to not work towards it at all.

I know that I am guilty of that.

My mistake was not making those goals achievable; I set an obstacle for myself even before I could begin.

3. Be Prepared To Fail

Uhm? Really?

No, no, listen.

I am a big proponent of failure.

Not that I earnestly seek to fail but I understand and embrace the fact that failure will always be a part of life and sometimes we cannot avoid failing, no matter how hard we try.

Because you see, it’s failure that lets us grow and by growing, we make sure we’re ready for when we eventually succeed.

Now, when setting goals, you need to be prepared to fail. Set a Plan B, C and if possible, all the way to a Plan Z so that if you do fail, the failure wouldn’t be so devastating.

For example, say your goal is to earn $5000 next month from your coaching clients. I assume that you’ve got bills to pay and that you’re literally banking on that income to be able to pay some of those bills.

But what if no one books your services or they do but it’s not enough? How are you going to protect yourself from possibly not being able to pay bills?

You make sure that you have enough savings to cover the bills for the next two months and if not, you’ll have to prepare to get the money in other ways. Perhaps you could sell a mini-course?

Perhaps you could reach out to event organizers for speaking engagements? Maybe do something entirely that is not related to your coaching biz by selling handmade things on Etsy (if you’re especially crafty)?

Whatever option you end up choosing, make sure it can act as a soft mat for if you miss that landing.

4. Base Your Affirmations On Fact

Self-affirmations are a very effective technique for increasing motivation in people.

Psychologically, when it comes to self-affirmations, there are two kinds: affirmative self-talk (‘I will get 500 people on my email list’) and interrogative self-talk (will I get 500 people on my email list?)

A study was conducted by researchers at the University of Illinois and Southern Mississippi University on positive affirmations. The study showed that interrogative self-talks were more effective than affirmative self-talks. Why?

“The popular idea is that self-affirmations enhance people’s ability to meet their goals,” Professor Albarracin said. “It seems, however, that when it comes to performing a specific behavior, asking questions is a more promising way of achieving your objectives.”

So what does it mean to base your affirmations on fact?

It’s like this: when you say you will do something, it’s not a fact yet. It’s just telling yourself that you will do that thing but what happens when you don’t?

Let’s be honest with ourselves for a moment, how many times have we told ourselves that we will do something and then time passes and…oops!

Did we? I’m reminding you to take the trash out tonight, haha!

Now, how about if you ask yourself if you can do something?

By asking ourselves a question instead of simply saying, “I will!” allows us to determine our willingness and readiness to do something.

By answering those questions we’ve posed to ourselves, we allow us to motivate ourselves into doing things because after all, we want to prove that we will do that thing, not so?

Let me repeat: you don’t know for certain if you will do something. Right now, you only think that you can. Can you?

5. Be Flexible In How You Get There

Wouldn’t it be easy to map out a way to your destination and then get there exactly how you planned?

Well, it’s not that easy and it shouldn’t be.

This is why you should be flexible in how you get there.

Your plan might just not work and require you to change tack and try a different method.

So be flexible. In achieving your goals make sure that you don’t adhere to just one method of doing things, allow yourself to go with the flow where needed.

Be a willow; bend with the wind instead of standing fast and breaking in the storm.

Let’s be willows together?

6. Take Responsibility

When it comes to setting and achieving your own goals, the responsibility falls on you.

It is you who needs to execute and follow-through and when a deadline is missed, it is you who must acknowledge why it was missed and take steps to prevent missing any more deadlines.

You can delegate the tasks that are part of your action plan but no one else can achieve the end goal for you.

I know it can be tempting to have someone else take the reigns for a while you sit back and focus on other things but this is the horse that is going to take you where you want to be, do you trust another person to know exactly where that is?

Didn’t think so.

But don’t worry, I believe in you.

Hold your head up high and follow through!

7. Focus On What You Can Control

*shouts and waves hands around* Control all the things!

Eh.

There is only so much you can control and if you like retaining control in every aspect of your business, you may open yourself to disappointment when you realize that some things are out of your control.

An easy way to avoid that is to focus only on what you can control.

When we do that, we let go of the things that are out of our control and devote our attention on the things that we can which keeps us moving instead of getting us stuck in a place of frustration.

So when there is something that is out of your control, instead of trying to maintain the illusion of control, rather delegate it to someone else or move on.

Setting goals is a big part of our creative businesses because, without goals to serve as our road-map, we risk going anywhere and everywhere except where we really want to go and we risk being stagnant and not quite achieving anything.

But what are goals if they are not set properly?

I do hope that this blog post helps you set effective goals that you will achieve and that you have a clearer idea of what your goals should be.

Now about these goals that you will achieve…can you? 😉

See what I did there?

Need a little help? A while ago I designed some goal setting printable worksheets and if you’re not a part of my exclusive library where you can access them and more, just sign up below to get them in your inbox.

Happy goal setting!

 Go to our website:   www.ncmalliance.com

How to set goals that you’ll actually reach Hey creatives! Let's talk goals for a moment, shall we? When it comes to goal-setting you will be forgiven to not take it seriously but...you actually should.