Tips for the Floundering Tweeter

August 15, 2015October 21, 2016 / Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / Leave a comment

Although, I’ve had a Twitter account for awhile now, I admit I’m not proficient in the use of Twitter. For one, it can be addictive and it’s hard for me to say anything in a 140 characters. I’ve been working on my Twitter presence and thanks to Kevan Lee at Buffer for his article, Twitter Tips for Beginners, I have a number of tips to share with those of you who, like me, are still floundering beginners or, just floundering.

Twitter Tips

Unless you don’t want to get anything else done -Don’t read every tweet. According to Kevan, “If you’re following 100 people, you could see 2,200 tweets per day.” I don’t have that kind of time.
Use Lists: This is something I’ve used for some time now. I currently have nine lists, from writing to politics.
Talk to people. If they tweet, re-tweet, mention, or favor a tweet – recognize them. Say something, after all, Twitter is about connecting with people. In the South, we call not responding – rude!
Use a scheduler. I use Buffer and have for a long time.
Make sure your profile is up to date, professional and says something real about who you are.
Follow as many as you want and more if you can. You follow me, I’m gonna follow you. And, by the way, you can find me on Twitter @cofcmom.
And, Thanks Kevan for this: No. 1 Rule of Tweeting: If you want everyone to see your tweet, don’t start it with an @ symbol. I didn’t have a clue.
You’re not going to be shunned or cut off from Twitter world if you repost a Tweet more than once. Go for it. It’s okay. You might pick up a follower or two.
Don’t forget the # hashtag, but don’t overdo it either. According to Kevan, when you use more than two #’s, engagement drops by 17%. Who knew you could # someone to death. Kevan has a whole article on the science of #hashtags. You can check it out here.

Here’s to Tweeting. I’ll see you on the Twitter playground. I’d love to hear your comments. Talk to me. Tell me your story. And as always, you can follow me on Facebook at SheilaMGood, Twitter @cofcmom, Tumblr, and Pinterest.

CAPTCHA, ReCAPTCHA, NoCAPTCHA, Please

June 24, 2015October 21, 2016 / Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / 6 Comments

Okay, some days are meant for stories, others for delving into important writer issues, or spouting off an opinion. Today, is bitching day. I’m annoyed to hell with Google. I admire their tenacity in combating spam and abuse. As a blogger, I sincerely appreciate the effort, but please for the love of God, get rid of the reCAPTCHA. You know, the little rectangle box that asks you to prove you’re not a robot by asking you to fill in distorted words, or pictures. Seriously?

Photo courtesy of simonkewin.co.uk & Google

Photo courtesy of Google

Do any of the geniuses at Google understand America is turning gray?

According to Forbes, “The gray wave has arrived. Since 2000, the senior population has increased 29% compared to overall population growth of 12%. The percentage of Americans in the senior set has risen from 12.4% to 14.1%, and their share of the population is projected to climb to 19.3% by 2030.”

And, what happens as we age? We can’t see!

“Beginning in the early to mid-forties, most adults may start to experience problems with their ability to see clearly at close distances.” American Optometric Association.

Google

You’ve got to be kidding me!!! What in those genius minds made them think requiring a visually challenged and aging population to place distorted words and pictures into boxes to prove they were not robots!

If you believe CAPTCHAS protect you from spammers, perhaps. But it’s also frustrating the bejesus out of your visitors to your site. Don’t believe me? Tim Allen of Moz wrote a great post in 2013, Having a CAPTCHA is killing Your Conversion Rate.

Although, CAPTCHA was designed as a user friendly system, a study conducted by Standford University showed otherwise.

The study found, on average:

71% can’t agree! That’s huge. Think of that in terms of visitors to your site. In fact, according to Moz, CAPTCHA’s became such a problem for Ticketmaster, in 2013 they stopped using it and went to another system.

I don’t want spammers screwing up the Cow Pasture Chronicles, anymore than the fortune 500 corporations or Amazon. But, I don’t want my readers and visitors frustrated and, therefore, discouraged from returning either. I want my site to be many things; welcoming, warm, thought-provoking, humorous, a resource for other writers, and a place people want to return time and again. For me, Cow Pasture Chronicles shall remain CAPTCHA free.

Google, I am NOT a robot! And, by the way has any of this nonsense worked with China? Hmmm?

What do you think about reCAPTCHA’s? Do you hate them as much as I do? Have you ever given up and left a site because you couldn’t fill the damn thing out correctly?I’d love to hear from you. Talk to me. Tell me your story. You can follow me on Facebook at SheilaMGood and Twitter @cofcmom.

Cow Pasture Chronicles, My Oasis

June 22, 2015October 21, 2016 / Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / 4 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “All About Me.”

The name of my blog as you may know, if you’re a follower, is Cow Pasture Chronicles. The name has a special meaning to me.

I was a precocious child, or so they said. I prefer a smart, independent, and inquisitive girl ahead of her time. One of six kids, I was quiet, but sneaky. I didn’t mouth off or sulk as some of my siblings. I stayed quiet, said the requisite yes ma’am and no ma’am. I listened, paid attention, and when the timing was right, snuck off and did what I damn well pleased. I rarely got caught, but when I did, there was usually hell to pay.

We lived on a dirt road just outside of town, not many neighbors in sight, and right behind our house was a big cow pasture, filled with cattle. Located just over a hill, the road and pasture remained out of view from our house and provided the perfect opportunity for a curious girl to explore. All I had to do was get past mama. As it turns out, getting past mama was the easy part.

It took a few times of trial and error before the cows (I thought they were all cows, NOT) and I learned to ignore each other. I had no idea what a dangerous situation, it was climbing the fence. To me, running past a 2000 lb bull in giggles, after invading his territory seemed a game of catch me if you can, and I was the champ. Sometimes ignorance is bliss.

The cow pasture became my favorite hide-a-way. Every day I climbed the fence running down the hill until I came to rest under the canopy of trees by the stream. I loved to hear the flow of the water and watch the cattle wander in to drink. The pasture became my escape, my paradise, my oasis.

It was there I began my writing adventure. As often as I could escape the house, I did. In the quiet of the pasture, beside a trickling stream, I filled my journals, writing about my grievances with my mother, poems, and stories. I even waxed poetic about algebra, the bane of my high school existence and signed my work with a pen name, Zeke

When I decided to start my blog, the name was a no brainer. The cow pasture I used for escape has long disappeared. Instead of cows meandering the fields, houses fill the expanse. My blog, Cow Pasture Chronicles, is now my escape. Here is where I explore the stories within me, voice the occasional opinion, and share the knowledge I’ve gained on the craft of writing.

If you haven’t stopped by, please do. I love to interact with other bloggers, readers, and writers. And I love feedback and dialog. And, as always you can follow me on Facebook at SheilaMGood and Twitter @cofcmom.

For your reading amusement, my poem on theorems, enjoy. (Be kind, I wrote this in 1972, when I was just a babe and I am not a poet)

Theorem 31

Oh, that teacher in 1^st period

his Theorems and his Proofs!

the more I try, the harder it gets

and, the Lord knows that’s the truth

The corollaries and postulates,

know them one by one

now, get to work and state the Proof

Of Theorem 31

I proudly state the given

then comes L1=L2

man, on my way am I

and AB=BY.

I look again at what

I am proud to prove and

suddenly see despair

I know that Mr. Morgan’s near

I sense him in the air.

He’s standing there right over me

With ruler in his hand

Sheila that’s wrong,

dear heart

Erase it and try again

Oh, that teacher in 1^st period

his Theorems and his Proofs

they’re driving me up the wall

and, God knows that’s the truth.

With a long, deep

and sad, sad sigh

I begin to erase it

I begin to cry

The shreds of hair lay

All around

My tear-stained face

Is streaked

So here, go again

compose yourself

don’t look so stunned

Sheila it’s really very easy

now, take this sheet

Quit pulling your hair

Now, prove theorem 31

Zeke (aka. Sheila)

January 11, 1972

Day 5

Watch Out for Squirrels, It’s That Time of Year

April 15, 2015October 21, 2016 / Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / 10 Comments

Photo Courtesy of.google and http://blog.drshannonreece.com

You may have noticed, Cow Pasture Chronicles has a new look. I hope you enjoy the change. I sat down at my desk on Saturday with a plan to write. First, of course, I needed to catch up on all the emails I’d missed while at the beach. It’s amazing how fast they can accumulate and overwhelm you, isn’t it?

I opened the cabinet above my desk for an item and froze. I am an admitted organization nerd and a notebook neurotic, but my cabinets looked like organized chaos. The next thing I knew, I had emptied them of all contents and had cleaning supplies in one hand and a sponge in the other. Writing had become a distant, fleeting thought. An occurrence happening all too often these days.

“What in the world are you doing?” My husband asked, wading through the contents I’d spread across the entire kitchen.

Images Courtesy of google and housecleaningbovol.blogspot.com

“Spring cleaning,” I said, my voice muffled from deep inside the cabinet. I cleaned like the Pope was coming to inspect.

“I thought you were going to work on your book?” He is forever nudging, no make that prodding, me to finish my work in progress (WIP).

I pulled my head out and glared. “I was planning to work on my blog, not my book.”

“So what happened?” He pointed to the mess.

I looked around, brushed my hair from my face and sank into the nearest chair. “A squirrel,” I said.

His brow furrowed in confusion and worry. “Squirrels?”

“Yeah, you know the kind that hijack your thoughts and hide them like nuts for winter storage. I call mine Jennie.”

He shook his head, grabbed a coke from the fridge. “Whatever,” he said as he headed toward the den.

It’s in the genes. Come Spring, I can’t help myself. I grew up with a woman, my mom Jennie, who believed Windex and newspapers, floor wax, cleaning supplies and rags came out the same time with the flowers and pollen every year. She’d wake us on a Saturday morning, bright and early, hand us rags and our marching orders and Spring cleaning would commence.

We washed windows, stripped the hardwood floors, applied new wax, scrubbed base-boards, and grout in the bathroom tile (with a toothbrush). We washed and spruced everything in the house and when it when done, we opened the sparkling new windows to let the fresh new air flow into our lungs. We inhaled that fresh air like a dying man sucking on his oxygen tube.

It may sound harsh, but with five girls we got to where we could knock the list out in a day ( I have no memory of my brother with a rag in his hand) and I am a hell of a housekeeper.

It took me all day (not as fast as I once was) to finish reorganizing. Exhausted, I pulled off my rubber gloves and resumed reading emails. Where I promptly opened this article from The Daily Post, “Spring cleaning: Reorganizing Your Blog.“ Well…what can I say. The squirrel was loose.