Are Writing Networks Not Worth it?

I’ve decided to gradually pull my content off HubPages. With so many posts being no-indexed (by HubPages) it seems I could make more money hosting them myself running Adsense/ Amazon and keeping 100% of the revenue. I already have the blogs up and in need of content. In trying to write for the networks and have some active presence in their communities I have spread myself thin.

You may think there is no point to ever writing for a network. But, I have liked being part of the writing networks for the community, the networking and the sharing of ideas. Also, for the writing discipline of knowing I’m sticking to a schedule and meeting goals not entirely of my own making. Being our own boss is only good when you have a fairly pushy boss.

At HubPages though, the content scraping was pretty much the last straw.  I found two of my posts stolen and even though I sent a DMCA it is just a joke, a waste of time. It’s too easy to ignore an email which the writer can’t afford to back up with legal fees.

It would be nice if HubPages gave us some support with content scraping/ theft. At the very least, find a way to prevent it. But, they don’t seem to be working on anything like that. In the forum they have said it is our content and our problem. However, the way I see it, it is their network and thus they should be offering some support to the writers who write and bring traffic which HubPages profits from.

Anyway, I’ve been feeling discouraged and decided it was time for a change.

How will writing networks like HubPages, Suite101, About.com and the others fare over the next few years? There have been many changes in the past ten or so years since writing networks began. Some call them content farms.

 

Ecard Writing Tips from SomeEcards

Tap into a jarring thought, a complex emotion, a contradictory behavior, an absurd scenario, or a general societal observation – however rude, embarrassing, or illegal. Try to not make your card as overwrought and pretentious as the previous sentence. Make every word count. The key is that your sentiment rings true, but also feels like something people haven’t quite heard before.

Let the image help tell the story – a glance, outfit, time period, unexpected pairing, odd gesture, or age can do wonders to elevate a well-crafted dick joke.

Keep your card to one sentence with no question marks or exclamation points. This is a general rule of the site for the sake of compactness and consistency. Rules can be fun!

Do a gut check on whether it’s “sendable.” Would someone want to receive your card? Will they “get” it? Will they read too much into it and think the sender is desperately unhappy in his or her job or relationship with them? If you answered “yes, “yes,” and “I’m an unemployed loner” then it’s probably fine.

If you love your card right away, something may be horribly wrong. Take a break, then come back to reevaluate. Is your card clear in its intended message? Is it a mind-blowingly profound insight on the human condition? Is it sort of funny? Maybe run it by a few friends to check. Then edit the words or image for a long enough time span that you can’t even remember what you’re doing or why. Continue this until you confidently admire your card or start feeling incomprehensibly alone in the universe. That means you’re done!

-Brook Lundy, co-founder & head writer

via Writing Tips | someecards.com.

Who Do You See?

You’ve become famous for your beauty but, in fact, it’s been 20 years since you last looked at yourself. In the morning you have body servants who do everything to prepare you for the day. During the day you have someone who follows along with you for any little touch ups to your hair, make up or wardrobe. Then, when you get home in the evening, there is a whole staff too for the bedtime routines. Once a week you have a spa day where every centimetre of your body is one kind of beauty treatment or another.

It’s been so long since you actually looked at yourself that you realize you’ve begun to forget what you look like. On your way to visit your business manager, the elevator has fancy mirrored doors which open to let you in. So you take a quick peek before they finish opening. How odd, you think. You can’t see yourself at all.

You decline to enter the elevator and tell those waiting to ride up and you will get the next one. You get a few odd looks but, it’s the city and there are all kinds of eccentrics here.

As the doors close behind them, you wait. Another chance to see yourself again and yet… you can’t see yourself. It’s not possible you could have become invisible.

Your daylong beauty checker notices a touch of glow on your face and moves to stand in front of you, fixing it but blocking your view. You can see around her and behind her in the mirror. You can see your arms wearing the dress you know you are wearing. It is only when she finally steps away, satisfied that you are perfect again, that you see the face and the body that go with the dress.

Someone has paid an awful trick on you! A joke! Surely it must be a joke. The woman in the mirror doesn’t look like you! She can’t be you! That face looks like something formed out of wax. It is perfect but it shows no sign of life. Unreal, like a mannequin. That can’t be you! You never looked like that!

As you turn towards your beauty checker, trying not to let out the scream which is racing up inside of you, you notice she is not real, not a real person. She’s mechanical, like a robot.

You look around you, there are other people coming and going, but as you look a bit closer you see they are all robots. No one that you can see is a real person, a human made of flesh, blood and bone. Now the scream rips out of you. You feel it leave your lungs, fly out of your throat and shake through every cell of your body.

But no… you realize. You didn’t really feel anything. You just expected to feel something.

Are you not real? No, you know you’re real. You can remember being real. About 20 years ago when you started being famous, you had a family, you had a cat too. Whatever happened to that cat? Seems you lost track of it and a lot of other things.

Your beauty checker tries to take hold of your arm but you are already off, running in a panic, out the doors, to the outside. If you can just get outside, everything will be right out there.

It’s been a long time since you ran anywhere. A long time since you did anything very physical. But you can still run. It feels good. You feel real again. No doubt this is just what you need. No doubt you can make everything make sense now that you’re not walking around half aware any more.

You catch sight of your face in the glass of the revolving doors… it’s like it’s melting. Slipping down from your hairline slowly like molasses. Underneath… under the waxy looking mask that you thought was your face… there are mechanical parts, wires, metal and circuit boards.

Everything inside of you shudders to a halt. You blow your final circuit, you become empty and frozen in place.

Later, a van pulls up outside. You are not really aware of it. You aren’t really aware when two clean up robots come and take you, place you in a long box and haul you into their van. On the side of the van it says “Acme”, of course.

Have you ever had a day where you get to the end of the day and realize you never actually, really looked at yourself all that whole day? How would it feel to look at yourself then and find a stranger looking back at you?

Bald and Toothless

You have a dream where all your hair and teeth fell out. Not a pleasant dream at all. When you wake up it still feels so real (and you’ve been so stressed out lately) that you have to make sure. To your absolute horror… it’s true! Your mouth is all gums and your head is all smooth, hairless. On the bed, all around and under your twisted sheets you pick up chunks of your hair, just looking at them, still not quite believing. Is this some evil joke? To be really sure you stagger to the bathroom only to have it confirmed again in the mirror. Oh horrors!

What do you do now? You have the day ahead of you, a busy day, a stressful day where you can not find time to go to the dentist or wig shopping.

Dr. Unheimlichs Disease Registry

http://thesurrealist.co.uk/disease

You’re a disease! Joke site.

If you can’t achieve immortality by not dying, you can at least achieve it by dying of something original.

Unheimlich Laboratories offer a full diagnosis and registration service, by which your current (or imminent) ailment can be archived in your name, in perpetuity.

To commence the scan, simply enter your name, press the affected or suspected body part against your monitor in the box to the right, and click “diagnose”. (If in doubt, or if suffering no symptoms, use your tongue.)