Word count

Some writers obsess over word count, while others are more about quality of the word they put out in public, which one are you?

How did you count this January?

When you started blogging this year, was word count your top goal? Did you achieve your target? But did you remember to include those you wrote on your note book, social media like twitter, Facebook or even just comments on any site?

How important is word count?

Sometimes bloggers rush to put a lot on their blog, but does it reach what you hoped it would? Even a ten word post can get more traffic than a 1000 word post. Give your audience good quality reads, so that they can spend more time on your site.

What I did this January

I enjoy writing short stories, and this January I expanded to this blog. I tweet, I take notes from the books I come I cross, I listen to radio a lot and get lots of ideas from what people share on those shows, and make notes. The hosts of those shows also enjoy books, so I expand my vocabulary from what they say sometimes, and I write them down. I listen to kids playing and sometimes they make up very interesting and unusual words, and I take note of them.

So how do you think I did this January from all these activities?

How did you do? What are you doing to increase your word count?

Men and feminists

“Feminist are making men a weaker sex. They are confusing and killing us Africans”

These are the words of one, Abraham Rop from Nyahururu, Kenya, on his twitter timeline about a day ago. I came across them while on a break from reading serious books, and they changed what I was going to write about that day. I took some time to think about what the guy and those who engaged with his, were really saying.

As a proud tom-boy, I sometimes come across as being too hush on women, but what this guy was saying, showed me that the world still has a long way to go, to can acknowledge women as equal human beings to men.

But my hope was restored, because it showed that what women who are all for girl-power, are having an impact. These men, those that support Abraham’s narrow view, are starting to feel the heat of your voices and determination.

Feminists are disrupting things as we were taught should be and are. Abraham’s statement to me just say that men have always been bullies and now that women are standing up for themselves, they fell intimidated and afraid. Afraid that they might get the taste of their own medicine when women take over.

But that is not what women are aiming for, all they ask is an equal playing field. My question to you is, what are you teaching your children about this in 2017 and beyond?

Simple ways to enjoy your 50s

  • Stop having babies when you are 30

Think about it, you are dealing with your own difficulties of menopause, why would you also want to deal with a 15 year old teen-tantrums? When you had your child when you were 30, they will be 20 and out of the house, hopefully, when you turn 50.

  • Accept your partner as they are

By this age you should know how to not react emotionally to every stupid thing your partner does. You have been with this person for long enough to know when to let go of small staff, and enjoy each other, with all that comes with life.

  • Money; Is either you have or you don’t

If you are still trying to figure out your retirement plans, where have you been, what were you doing in your teens? Retirement starts when you turn 16, you don’t plan here but are contributing each month into your retirement fund account. You start asking around about it when you turn 12.

  • D I F Y

Do It For You, what ever you do from here on, it’s for your own fulfilment. Start a new hobby that will keep you fit and engaged with your surroundings. Go on holiday for as long as you can afford to stay there. Buy the most expensive perfume and flirt more with your partner, for your own amusement.

Don’t take life too serious at this age, you have been eating for 50 years for peace ‘sake. Love your floppy body and drink a lot of water. Above all LOVE YOURSELF!

 

Dear Society

Dear society, my name is…right now it does not matter what my name is, but I think you should hear my story first.

What I can tell you is, I am in my twenties, have a daughter and husband, I have a mom a wonderful step-dad, and two younger siblings. I live in my own house and have a degree, and working on my next one and I love my life.

But things were not that easy and simple at the beginning, I was raised by my prostitute mom, after my hustler dad dead, shot by the police; thank you snitches.

My mom was 16 when I was born, lived with her boyfriend in a shack after her parents disowned her, after discovering her pregnancy. Before long I had two siblings after the passing of my dad, yes we don’t have the same father.

My mom tried to hold on to any job after my dad passed, but due to her limited education, all she had were temporary jobs, in local shops like spazas, fish n chips, the likes. She finally decided to open a shebeen, after the father of my little sister left her some money, after she showed him some good times. He was a business man from some country I cannot pronounce, and was in my country for a short time to look for ways to expand his ventures.

I grew up exposed to alcohol and different men that accompanied my mom till the late hours of the night or early mornings. She thought I did not notice this side of the business, but I did. What I did not like were the drunk men that used to look at me like I was for sale.

I understood that my mom had to do what she could to give us a better chance than she had, but it was not easy for me to process that. She eventually left the prostitution side of her business and got married to a sexy educated man that she is still with.

That was just a snap short of my background, you can find the rest of it on this website as soon as the author had finished with it.

What I wanted to address with this is, why is society so harsh on women who provide a service that all men want, sex? Do we ever stop and ask them what let to that, or we just assume they are in it for the drugs and what not?

My younger brother’s dad is a married man, and he did father my brother through my mom’s prostitution, after he promised her that he was leaving his wife and wanted my mom to stop her prostitution. He did leave his wife, but when my brother was in his final year in high school, and he was paying child support, even had a savings or some policy for his education.

If it was not for his wife refusing to give him what he loved, sex and comfort, the guy would not have had to buy my mom’s vagina. If she was not always on his case about everything and anything, he would not have left her.

So ladies and gentlemen, why don’t you look at what is it that you are not doing right in your relationships, before you judge the prostitutes? Do we have to be so harsh on their kids and always put it in their faces that their parents are prostitutes?

All three of us are well educated, we had a loving single mother, and lived in a ten roomed house, with each having their own bedrooms. My step-dad married my mom when my siblings were both in varsity.

Oh yes my name…I am your neighbour, who drive that fancy car, with her kids in private school and I am on the school management committee. I sit next to you in church every Sunday and we had lunch just the other day.

Is your front garden a bully?

How many of us have a front garden like this?

It is the first this our kids see when they leave for school, come back home or just anything they do when they step out the from door.

Some of us even have far better looking gardens than that bush like one. We toil on them over weekends or whenever we can.

They are colourful, bright and smell nice. Others are big and some are small enough. We want nothing wrong to happen to them.

But what are they teaching our kids?

Pretty comes first, always in front, is eye catching and appealing? By who’s eyes do we see pretty?

Why not turn your front garden into a veggie garden? Ijo…ijoo..joo…Say what now woman?

And that right there is our bullying mentality that we keep passing on to our kids.

What do you think your kids, family and neighbours are going to say when they see those cabbages, tomatoes, spinach and the rest as the first and last thing they remember about your yard?

I believe that front veggie gardens can change our kids attitudes towards healthy food. We all know that kids like taking things when we are not looking, now do you think they won’t take those carrots and eat them with their friends around a corner, as a way to annoy you that they went into the garden without permission?

The point is to get them to eat veggies right?

But a front veggie garden really?

Apart from being proudly different, think of all the lessons gained from looking after a veggie garden.

  1. Record keeping, when a child records what they have planted and what is required for it to produce good crops.
  2. Responsibilities, making sure that the garden is well watered, cleaned and fed.
  3. Caring
  4. Seeing all things as equally beautiful and important.
  5. Patience, waiting for the grops to grow and produce food proofing that hard work results in good rewards.

We all want our kids to turn into smart productive adults, start with changing their perspective of what pretty is and that anything can come first.

Oh yes we can incorporate flowers in our veggie gardens of cause, we are after all teaching equality at the end.

Life after…

14 February 2017 is nearing and most will be looking for excuses for not believing in the whole concept and how it is just another commercial day blah…blah…blah

But why don’t you turn that into your fun day, more so when you have children. You were once happy with the person you were involved with at one time, write your kids the stories of your first Valentine’s day experience with their other parent, with your first love or even the first time you head about that day.

Kids of divorced parents or deceased partners, still have memories of how they saw the two of you in love one time. The relationship might have ended bitterly but most adults with self respect and respect for others, made it to not look like that, starting with not fighting or arguing in-front of their children.

Don’t teach your kids hate just because you got hurt, they don’t know what really went on behind closed doors. Let them know what made you happy, took your breath away, made you blush until the next day or is still making you blush even now when you think about it.

By writing those past moments, might even help you learn a thing or two about yourself and help you overcome your bitterness, disappointments and hurt. It might help you realize you don’t need to always be in a relationship, help you find your happiness again or even improve your presence in your current relationship.

Thank about it and good luck writing those memories, who knows maybe you might even turn them into the next bestseller.

EMPTY

Empty…Empty…Empty

Emptiness

I feel so empty, I got nothing

I feel nothing, I think nothing

Empty…Empty..Empty

No wait…say what now?

I am writing this

I am thinking these words

And words aren’t empty

But I…I…I feel so empty

Oh world please be quite

Be quite and let me have a moment

I breath in I breath out

And I do it again and again

I’m not empty

I am filled, filled to the brim

My heart still pumps

It fills my body with blood

Blood that is filled with oxygen

Oxygen that I…I filled in my lungs

Emptiness is not bad

Emptiness doesn’t mean dead end

I am here I breath in and out day and night

World take your noise cause it is taking up space in me

And I have to get out

I have to give ME to others

More than your noise take from me

I am not empty

I am here, I have always been here

I was once nine years old

Filled with dreams, hope, ambition, life, love, happiness

I am here and I am not empty

I was taught that all things have potential energy

I once was nine years old and I had potential

Oh yes I am still here

I breath in I breath out

World take your noise away

I am filled with potential

I love I laugh I smile I cry

I am filled to the brim

I dream I care I hurt I get hurt I give

I breath in I breath out

Emptiness you are not me

Emptiness you don’t own me

Emptiness you don’t rule me

Emptiness you are gone

I don’t want you

I am filled

I wrote this I turned my potential into passion

I wrote and I feel filled

I am filled to the brim

CAUSE I WROTE THIS

 

Success 101: Work consistently

We set goals each year but do we have action plans to achieve those goals?

Have a weekly goal, with a daily action plan the will move you closer to your set goal.

Don’t forget to have room for when life throws a bus at you.

Have a look at this article, and adjust your goals and plans this week.

http://www.lifehack.org/525034/the-3-most-controversial-tips-personal-productivity

Episode 4: Leave me breathless

Sipho stood there for a good sixty seconds before her thought came back to her.

“Sis maan that is so untidy, why don’t you go to the bathroom for that, gaa maan!”

“Who are you to tell me that I can’t do this here? You don’t even know what it is that I’m washing off my hands. It’s not like I’m from the toilet or the dog’s house, I’m just rinsing some wine off my hands.”

Sipho was about to give him a piece of her mind, when he turned and looked straight into her eyes. For the first time ever she found herself speechless after a man talked to her in that way. Vuyo was the one thing she never thought of meeting at  their parties. There he was, standing at maybe 1.85m+ with those big wide shoulders, in his blue jeans and t-shit and no shoes. With his nice smooth chocolate skin and no facial hair and a bold head.

Oh my…and that deep sexy voice, oh…God must be missing one of his messengers. Oh brother…mmm…mmm…mmm!

“What, did you see an animal you’ve never seen?” that voice again and this time with a serious pulled face.

“Ahem…wa…huh…oh brother you can say that again, damn! I’m…I’m…I…SHIT! No I mean I am Siphokazi”

She was still staring at him and about to jump over the counter and all over him.

“Oh God…where on earth have you been? Oh mother! Finally my eight hours has come to me, but oh my…oh my…PLEASE HEAVEN HELP ME!”

She was not even aware that she was saying all these out loud.

“I never thought that I will ever see the day, the day that a woman will look at a man like some kind of meat on the braai stand waiting to tear it apart like a wild animal. Sorry sister, I don’t sleep around with people who think I am…”

She did not wait for him to finish what he was about to say, “Oh NO…NO…NO you are something else. What I’m actually looking at right now does not come anywhere near turning me on sexually. I don’t know what is it about your voice but oh my, it’s such a mental turn on. It says a lot bout you. I have been with men of all sorts, but you are something else. I’m Siphokazi by the way.”

“Ya I know, you said that twice now.”

“Oh I…I…I…”

He came around the island counter to just brush passed her. He stood behind her poured himself a glass of red wine that he had opened before Sipho came into the kitchen. All the while she was standing between his arms feeling his warm breath on her neck. She stood there taking deep breathes.

She felt all sorts of things inside her that she never knew were there. She could feel the vibrations of his voice rumbling inside her chest. She started grasping for air as her heart kept beating faster and faster, her body felt like it was loosing all its senses.

Her heart was beating so fast to the point that she could swear he felt if from where he was standing. She was into the unknowns of feeling human, her body wanted to run away, but still wanting to die right therein his big arms.