A long time ago and very far away, before people began paraphrasing the opening line from Star Wars because they couldn’t come up with their own introduction, there was a website. This website was created by someone who didn’t have the first clue on how to create websites, and thusly there was some degree of suckage exhibited on the website. (And the creation occurred before the development of “point and click” website design, meaning actual coding was required, thereby increasing the suckage factor to an alarming degree. “Real” programmers wept if they chanced upon said site, and some of them were never the same again, resorting to drugs and alcohol to help erase the horrors encountered.)
Naturally, the site did not do very well, partially due to the weep-inducing suckage, but a healthy chunk of the failure can be attributed to the novice creator also failing to understand how to attract visitors. The naïve virgin innocently adhered to the theorem that “if you design it, they will come”. This is one of the great fallacies of the Internet. Visitors do not magically arrive on your digital doorstep. You must go out and find them, luring and cajoling and threatening the visitors with dubious schemes and trapdoors and even hints of fantastic sexual satiation awaiting at your obscure URL.
The creator really didn’t have time for all that luring mess, as he was then working for a huge corporation which demanded that he continually throw himself into the Volcano of Never-Ending Sacrifice on a daily basis. (Of course, the creator did have time to cobble together hundreds of pages and links on his nascent website, so there may have been some priority issues.) In any case, the milkshake did not draw the boys to the yard, and the site eventually went dormant, dusty and forgotten.
[Insert awkward transition of narrative from one voice to another.]
However, due to the wonders of technology and the fact that I continue to pay a tiny monthly fee to a hosting service, the site is still out there. And it actually still works, much to my amazement, considering how often Internet protocols change, where a site can run as smooth as silk one day and then become a broken wasteland the next. (Cue more weeping from the sad programmers.) So that finally brings us to the two-point purpose of this post.
One, none of my current in-progress posts have been deemed release-worthy by the review committee (consisting of Scotch and Cleo, for those in the know), and I’m scrambling for something to share. Two, if you have the time, it would be swell of you to visit the unvisited site. Now, your initial response might be, “well, since you’ve spouted considerably about the crapiness, why would I want to go there?” And that’s a valid reaction. The site is clunky, with far too much clicking required if you aren’t the type of person who especially enjoys repeatedly fondling a mouse.
But here’s the catch: the site also contains links to every one of my blog posts from all of my blogs up to that point. It’s a cornucopia of my literary expulsions prior to my move from Blogger to WordPress, snapshots from some of those cryptic blogs I reference in my “previously published in” footer notes. That being said, the abandoned literary carcasses you will encounter are in their primal state, before I resuscitated some of them with a fresh coat of lipstick and a bit of nip and tuck.
So, if you do decide to visit (and I fully understand if you don’t; I’m not sure that I would, given this questionable opportunity), you have a mission, should you accept: pick among the wreckage, see if there are any interesting stories worth salvaging that I haven’t re-purposed already, and slap the titles in the comments below.
I know this sounds complicated and a bit daunting. Most of you will run for the hills, and may the fleetness of Mercury propel you to freedom. But I know that a handful of you will at least go diddle around out of morbid curiosity, and it would thrill me if you decide to return with some selected titles. As we bloggers know, sometimes the well is Sahara-dry when attempting to come up with fresh or at least re-envisioned posts (did someone say “updated with extra flair?”), so any directional nudge you can give me would be really swell.
At the very least, I hope you have a little bit of fun peeking into my mind from several years back and learning about the original concept behind this whole “Bonnywood Manor” mess, regardless of what may transpire after that. And really, that’s the true win here, if you can call it that: A chance to step back in time and poke a stick at the keystones of where I am now.
P.S. You will inevitably encounter some broken links, either due to my ineptitude or the fact that I generally pull down any posts that have already been included in one of my published books. (The entire “Paris Chronicles” series is gone, for instance.) Unless you’re a completist, there’s really no need to mention the junk links, as I no longer remember how to fix them. Just ignore and go on, which is how I deal with rabid Trump supporters who are so lost in their delusions that there is no chance of salvation.
Originally published in “Bonnywood Manor” on 09/21/16. Some changes made for this post. For the record, most of the suggestions proffered in the comments on the original post have been updated and re-released. So I do pay attention, just without any degree of planning or competence…