"...NOTES FROM THE DUMP..." seems to have peaked, reached critical mass, is afloat in the doldrums of apathy - no one seems to notice it anymore; now more than ever NFTD has become a novelty item, a keepsake as it were, of times bygone when writing was powerful and fluid, fun and informative, filled with deathless prose; the forecast was rosy...
Riches and fame beyond compare were mine! I was Golden Boy!
Say what?
...for whatever reasons, subscriptions have plummeted, renewals dried up,
old friends avoid it (me) as though I were - it were - anathema, a plague bacillus unleashed upon the land as in biblical days of yore...next thing you know locusts will destroy my crops...
OK...fling me into the bulrushes already...sheesh...
So now what? I can hardly reveal the foregoing to you and in the next sentence touch you up for your 30 dollar renewal in my usual appealing, if guileless, fashion; if no one else is re-upping, why should you?
Therefore, ever so reluctantly and with no little trepidation, I inquire of you (and request most urgently!) to tell me Dear Reader, where I have erred, if I have, and where and how I might correct our glide path through life aboard the good ship NFTD. (After all there's always the chance with me that I might blame it on every(body)thing except me; I've often convinced myself thusly of the rightness of a wrong argument. A la George Thorogood, doing things wrong is my way of doing things right...)
If you would be so kind - take a minute to jot down or e-mail or call and let me know what I might do in order to retrieve this thing of ours from the scrap heap of bygone journals - and thanks, much obliged!
Riches and fame beyond compare were mine! I was Golden Boy!
Say what?
...for whatever reasons, subscriptions have plummeted, renewals dried up,
old friends avoid it (me) as though I were - it were - anathema, a plague bacillus unleashed upon the land as in biblical days of yore...next thing you know locusts will destroy my crops...
OK...fling me into the bulrushes already...sheesh...
So now what? I can hardly reveal the foregoing to you and in the next sentence touch you up for your 30 dollar renewal in my usual appealing, if guileless, fashion; if no one else is re-upping, why should you?
Therefore, ever so reluctantly and with no little trepidation, I inquire of you (and request most urgently!) to tell me Dear Reader, where I have erred, if I have, and where and how I might correct our glide path through life aboard the good ship NFTD. (After all there's always the chance with me that I might blame it on every(body)thing except me; I've often convinced myself thusly of the rightness of a wrong argument. A la George Thorogood, doing things wrong is my way of doing things right...)
If you would be so kind - take a minute to jot down or e-mail or call and let me know what I might do in order to retrieve this thing of ours from the scrap heap of bygone journals - and thanks, much obliged!
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