So… my Twitter profile “NotLikeEggs” wasn’t doing much. If you were curious about that name, by the way, it comes from how people learn my last name and say, “Oh, Hatch like an egg!” No. Not like an egg, dammit.
It was yet another way to keep in touch with friends and celebrities, and I didn’t need one more thing to check every time I logged onto my computer.
…unless it had another purpose.
Enter SoundbiteStory. I wanted it to be called “SoundbiteStoryhour,” which is catchier and more apropos, but Twitter has a thing about maximum character limits, y’know. At any rate, I’ll still use Twitter to chitchat on the side, but starting tomorrow, once a day, everyday, I will post off and on for an hour and create a little short story to entertain my readers. It probably won’t be great everyday, but hopefully it will be worth tuning into.
One hour. One story. Exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, denouement. Each and every day.
Hemingway once wrote, “For sale. Baby Shoes. Never worn.” This is the world’s shortest story, poignant and presenting a message in thirty-three characters. I’ll try to live up to his example in 140-character posts. One at a time. Over the course of an hour.
…I just incorporated all three of my email accounts. I’m starting to regret putting the Hotmail one on GMail. My pristine inbox was immediately flooded with 139 spam messages. There’s a reason Google pwns MSN. Blegh and blarglesnarf.
