Friday, June 04, 2010

She's Leaving Home

Greetings primates. Life in an underground bunker isn't that bad. The scotch is plentiful, and only the finest tobacco makes it to our cigars. We avoid blogging, civil conversations are our joie de vivre. That, and typing with claws is damn near impossible.

Call it an experiment or a voyeur's wet dream, lurking on this website has been most beneficial in understanding your race and the hardships it puts itself through. It doesn't take long to come up with a set of rules, and even less time to be beheaded for not sticking to them. As such, the laws of this land are simple:

  1. Avoid cliches.
  2. Tidy design lets even high school dropouts appreciate writing.
  3. Respect your reader's time and patience.
  4. Read the bleeding FAQ.
On to Quaint Murmur then. This review would probably never see the light of the day had Shiner not threatened to cause grievous physical harm to my aging exoskeleton. Cliched title? Check. Uninformative "About me"? Check. "Amethyst Haze" is a 22 year old student who describes herself as a dreamer among other things. This will take time. And more scotch.

Considering the recent deluge of DOA submissions, it's a relief to review an active blog. The template needs work, but more on that later. It's the writing we all care about, and it's something everything else would be forgiven for. Everything about the blog screamed Indian emo kid, but one must stay objective in this gig.

Amethyst, you're from a part of the world that fiercely values its identity and your writing shows that. But why do I get the feeling I'm reading the words of Ted Mosby crossed with Zach Braff? All these thank you speeches sound alright when read one by one, but collectively make it sound like you can't stop gloating. And that's just a tenth of your self-indulgent "thank you" posts.

We visit blogs for stories, to identify with journeys similar to ours. It's why retarded mommy blogs get 300 comments, and why the folk here wait months together to add a new blog to their readers. Amethyst, you have stories. Some random. Some mundane. Some are pretty good. It's a start. You try your hand at creative writing. It's not for me, but I can see that you're trying to flex your writing muscles and that's okay. Go on, explore what writing has to offer. But don't compromise with rants and smileys.

Your posts are ungodly long, and you need to work on obvious typos. Proof-read, edit, take a little time to read your own writing. Your fonts are never consistent, and your post-dates don't always show up. Clean up your layout, 3 columns are a waste of space. Use a private test blog for your template and find something less banal. Speaking of cliches, how about something original for your title and author description? Write about yourself, your blog and post it for everyone to see. What disappoints me the most about your blog is the tone of your writing. I kept asking asking myself "who are you?". And that's not just due to your spartan profile, but just who is this person spouting random wisdom? Sagacity and advice, really? No wonder 40-year olds chuckle at teenagers' blogs.

Amethyst. Slow down. Pace yourself. Think of the direction your blog has to take. Don't hit that damn publish button right away. Keep your voice, but use it for something that needs telling.

For decent to good writing, I'm giving you 2 stars.

For trying a little too hard you get:


  1. I let her know but she moderates comments. Bah.

  2. See, that's just the thing. I don't read any tidbits of wisdom from anyone who hasn't answered the question of 'who the fuck are you?'

  3. I can only take so much from self-identified dreamers/wanderers/explorers, you know?

    MAKE IT INTERESTING. Is there a way to make it interesting?

  4. We visit blogs for stories, to identify with journeys similar to ours. It's why retarded mommy blogs get 300 comments, and why the folk here wait months together to add a new blog to their readers.

    I like this. It totally verifies my elitism.

  5. The giant daisy made my eyes bleed. I've got socks older than her.


Grow a pair.