The Good Patrons of 750 Words

1 cup

I was writing about my partner who passed away three years ago (a period of time disguising itself evilly as a “seems like only yesterday”) each word a heavy weight off my heart. Healing through creativity I made a double entendre out of the phrase “other half” (quite cleverly if I say so myself) timely so at the eager end of this emotional entry whilst simultaneously reaching the 750 goal AND acquiring my turkey badge. With a proud and pronounced tap of the victorious apropos period (you can’t plan a better period than that) my laptop on tragically clichéd cue faded to black, itself passing away to the great unknown. Having bravely and selflessly holding on to dear life (after a brief but ultimately lethal viral infection) so that I, this lazy unmotivated measly ol’ scribbler of sentences could finally and probably prematurely proclaim that I am now a dedicated and disciplined writer. Thank you my sweet Windows OS burdened laptop. Or should I be thanking my partner. Perhaps it was really David’s spirit watching over me? Well thank you too honey I miss you every day. May you both rest in peace.
Seriously the true thanks is due to my best bud and fellow widower who so enthusiastically it was practically spasmodical, turned me on to this site raving about the analytics and what it revealed in his writing that he did not see himself. Ultimately the greater gratitude goes to Buster Benson who created 750 words dot com. I have not previously trusted or felt comfortable about sharing my life on any other copy right confounding journal site until 750 came along with its simplicity, badge encouragement and community of people instead of remote and unreachable tech staff who delight in laying thick their incomprehensible and fake accents . Benson’s personal approach allowed me to release the untamed words from my overcrowded mind and not fear them being herded in hard drive hell, caged forever in an MS Word document due to threat of hacking. I’m upset (though not as much as my wallet will be) over the demise of my superman-stickered coffee -stained and slightly scratched laptop but relieved it did not take my journal to the grave with it. Like my gigantic old 586 desktop did with – I brag not – the greatest novel I have and will ever write in my life . Sadly there can only be one of those. So ashes to ashes microchips to microchips. So long Windows hello apple chips. (well it had to rhyme)

River James
Author of the Greatest Unread American Novel