Babe's Always Write

Babe's Always Write Have you ever considered the concept of cyberspace? By George, I think we've found the 4th dimension, even without the synthesizer music and Spock ears. I mean, how is it a whole pile of folks can visit my little prattle room and leave me notes when a blog has no height, depth or width? And though I personally have a lot of width, I still fit in the slim-Jim cyber room as well as any Elle McFerson. Cool beans! Who needs that diet- pass me another blog roll, double mayo, hold the cheese.

This blog room thing is cool. None of my points make stiletto marks in the cyber carpet. None of the ka-ka I throw leaves greasy marks. This could be the answer to housework, dieting, and the whole female universe. The male answer may be 42, but who wants to smell like fish? No, no, give me Eau de Internet, that strange whiff you take of your armpits as you gauge how long showering will take you away from tapping the keys. Ahhh.

I think the stories we write are a bit like blog rooms. We create a new space where readers can go, somewhere that nobody knew was there (esp the writer), a new frontier where your shoe marks won't show (unless they're on the butt of your agent), a new swampland critics can scream to have drained. Yup. Been thinking. Must be the Mother's Day chocolate fudging up my brain.