Tuesday, January 29

1973, According to the Inscription

Wait! Wait, just a minute. I gotta close me eyes. Fellas, the jackets, the ties, and all yous together, well, it's dizzying. Urp. Oh! here comes the apple juice . . .

Wednesday, January 23

It's a Gosh-Dern Revolution

I'd like to honor the arrival of 2008—before I loose enthusiasm, expectations wilt, and my taste buds detect souring disappointment. I hear you. The ball dropped in Time Square nearly a month ago. It's late, I know, but I started the year behind, however that works.

The recent buzz about resolutions and goal setting has upset the blog's prior trajectory. A once benign presence, breathing quietly in the corner, will now adorn a florescent, floral-print mu mu and slap passing asses. Chocolate Dynamite is steppin’ it up. The site is always under construction, but a renovation of this magnitude will necessitate the hands of many, or, in this case, the brains of several.

I’m asking for your input. If you don't speak up, I will continue to blog-along as I have in the past. But I'd love to hear—or read—some feedback. Here’s a sneak peak of things to come, and where you can help.

If you haven't noticed, the colors of the blog have displayed the spectrum. Good Lord! You change the colors of the blog as frequently as I changed outfits as an overly self-conscious teen. I read somewhere that viewing a darker computer screen uses less energy than its brighter counterpart. But if you can't read the text, we might as well leave the damn thing off. What do you think . . . Does the color scheme give you a headache? Is the font large enough? Do you have to squint? Do the necessary links link you? Should the pictures be larger?

February encourages prolificacy. For the first time in Chocolate Dynamite history, I will post weekly. Granted, each post may not be a literary piece, but I will provide something for your viewing pleasure each week. Your turn . . . Can you handle that much Choc.D? Or is the thought of additional torture nauseating? What would you like to see more of . . . photos, essays, reviews?

Some handy features have already been implimented. An email icon/link (looks like a miniature envelope) at the end of each post allows you to forward any post to any one. You can now subscribe to the blog (feeder icon found on the top right corner of the home page, beneath the profile link), once signed up, post notifications are sent automatically through the site, rather than from me—at my convenience.

A funky new template is in the works; it's totally hip and will hopefully stave off feeling old—one more year. On top of all the mods to the blog, a legitimate dot-com website is in the making, you'll be able to get cool stuff there, including PDF links to my articles not published elsewhere on the Internet.

I hope you share a fraction of my excitement for things to come. Please leave any comments in the "comments" section below—anonymous or not. You can also email me directly—the address can be found in "my complete profile." I will read all comments and listen to most. Thanks for your help.

If you'd like to help re-model in proper party attire . . . check out http://www.muu-muus.com/.

Thursday, January 10

Detour Ahead

Just when I was about to sell out—by posting an irrelevant top-five list involving canine apparel—I visited one of my favorite blog sites. The author of www.writersdigest.com/writerslife provided the inspiration necessary to trudge beyond my recent ambivalence. Thanks Kevin. Apparently I’m not the only one frustrated with getting words to paper.

Is it possible, this early in the year, to run out of ideas, motivation, and time? The billowing recycle-bin on my desktop displays my answer. Thoughts beyond a sentence or two quickly dissolve. I can’t blame it on writer’s block because characters are rampant and naked and running amuck within the confines of my imagination. The problem is isolating a single scheme for further study. Once I get a hold of the buggers, my concentration wanes.

Let us utilize the freeway to better understand this torture. First, we will establish some parameters. Personal safety is assured. Traffic is moving (I’m a big city girl). And it is daylight—no rain. Liken, for a minute, ideas to autos. If you observe the speeding sea of cars as a whole, collecting specific information beyond color and make will be difficult. Focusing your attention on one car, however, may afford a few extra details—like number of occupants and the license plate number.

You can’t write an engaging story knowing—only—that someone drove a Ford. But watching that Ford drive down the highway as far as you can see will solve more questions. The criminal sped away in a blue Ford Escort—license RMT118. But then what? So what the Ford is blue. What did the person do to gain crook status anyway? Who cares? This, my friends, explains the death of innumerable, partially written pieces.

By the way . . . the little brown Yugo we’ve been riding in, the one I plucked from the expressway, has now vanished. Sorry. I followed it as long as I could. But a juicy red Ferrari has caught my eye.