This is Career Habit #1

Do you use StumbleUpon? If you're in your 20s, with lots of super-important interests and too much time on your hands, I'm sure you do.

StumbleUpon directed me to this little item called 30 Habits that Will Change Your Life. Quite the claim, but I looked it over. Among things like "drink water!" and "clean up after yourself!" I spotted something of potential value:

Well, lookie here! I already did that! But my question is, will a personal blog actually help my career? I tend to think not. In fact, if anything, I feel like it could be the opposite (especially since my boss "caught" me writing this post...hm).

Another question comes to  mind: Is blogging so essential to creating a strong career path? When did that happen? (If the answer is 1994, don't tell me.) Plenty of people blog and "get noticed" because they have a unique viewpoint, therefore establishing a blog-based career. Several of my friends have blogs that feature their career accomplishments and portfolio projects. But am I convinced that the habit of blogging will develop a stronger employee- especially if my blog is about stuff like what I did last weekend, vampires, and love-life dramas?

What I do think I can gain from blogging, in a career sense, is an honest perception of my personality. As an employer, one would have the privilege of getting to know my interests and communication habits by reading my blog before hiring. "Will she fit in here?" (yes). It also helps me practice my writing skills...and this writing may seem silly, but as someone who is practiced in the art of AP style, journalism, news writing, and business-speak, I like having another style and audience in my repertoire.

Plus, it helps me practice editing. Spelling 'n grammar 'n stuff

And getting back to the beginning of this post, who DOESN'T know to drink water and clean up after themselves? The Internet is always providing me with such useful information. Additionally, if you (somehow) don't use StumbleUpon, but you have time to read this blog (and in turn, probably lots of other blogs) you may want to check it out.

Happy Hump Day!

Writing Wednesday: 5 Syllables

Prompt from Writers Digest:

"Write a paragraph where every sentence contains at least one five+ syllable word. Begin with “Hypothetically speaking…”

Hypothetically speaking, we’re all making history. You might feel inconsequential in your daily life, but have you ever heard of the butterfly effect? The pandemonium begins when a butterfly flaps its wings. The simple action impacts the atmosphere, sending new waves across the world that eventually will cause a typhoon on the other side of the world. Point being, each action you choose makes an imperceptible but permenant alteration in the historical character of your surroundings.
____________

Mr. Garrison said 5 sentences is enough for a paragraph...

Writing Wednesday

 

Although I have a degree in communcations, I have a hard time writing creatively. I am great at professional emails and fact-based news articles, but creative writing escapes me. Practicing seems the only way to get better, and so begins Writing Wednesday.

I will complete short writing exercises each week (hopefully). You are invited to critique (I'm sure most of my writing will be terrible, especially at first) and to use the prompts to do a little creative writing of your own. I found this prompt at www.wakeupwriting.com

Timed Exercise

Set your timers for 15 minutes, write the title at the top of your page and then see where your imagination takes it.

Title:  Summer of Storms

     She lived with her mother in the city, but most summers she found herself in the smaller town a few hours away where her father and step-mother lived. She was entering her final year of school, and hoped this would be her last obligatory visit. As her parents did the traditional "divorced-kid" hand-off, she tried her best to keep them from starting a conversation. It was always halting and uncomfortable. She lifted her head and smelled the air, hoping that the strong breeze would help her feel at home.
     "Well...welcome back," her father said, once her mother had backed out of the long, gravel drive. "Thought we'd eat at the picnic table tonight." She glanced up the clouded sky, but didn't say anything. She had learned that protesting got her nowhere with this man.
     As she unpacked her summer clothing, the wind that had helped calm her began to push leaves against her window. "Thank god," she thought, "The storms."
     She went to the porch and looked out over the pond. She sky grew rapidly more grey, and the wind carried the scent of cow manure across her nostrils. Suddenly, she spotted a short and distant bolt of summer lighting.
     The clouds billowed over the tree-line, and she could hear the thunder rolling closer. From this house on the hill, she could see for miles. She was in awe of the clarity in the cracks of lightning. As the thunder rumbled, it shook loose the tightness in her chest and she breathed the first real breath since she'd arrived. She leaned forward on the railing. The sky stretched out before her, a bright grey. When the rain started, she rested on the swing to await its approach. It moved quickly, blurry and alive.