Last week I attended a class entitled “Personal Branding.” I’m sure all of you are familiar with giant global brands such as Coca Cola, Budweiser, and PerryBlock.com. Like me, some of you may be big fans of Lame Adventures Travel and enjoy guided tours of popular NYC subway benches and weekend cruises to sleepy Hackensack, NJ in a ’63 Impala (group rates available).
Did you know that YOU are a brand? Yes, it’s true. You may not have a logo, buy Super Bowl ads, or have your image on the side of a milk carton, but you still have a brand. It’s what people think of when your name is mentioned. What comes to mind when you hear these names; Charles Manson, Tiger Woods, Marge Simpson, and Jim Bob Duggar? If your brand is not what you want it to be there’s still time to create a better image. Who knows, you may be the next PerryBlock.com.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the brand famous for an Addiction to Purple crayons (but who always chews the wrappers off) is Periwinkle Plum Wisoff-Fields. If you’d like to participate in this exercise in madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
“The key is hidden in the gazebo.”
“How do we get to it?”
“Through the labyrinth.”
“Not me. The last time I went in there I wet my pants.”
“That was a long time ago. You were just a kid.”
“I don’t care. He’s still in there. One wrong turn and you’re in his clutches.”
“But you’re taller now. You can see over the top. There’s no way to get lost.”
“I’m not taking any chances.”
“It’s hard to imagine a woman your age still believes in monsters?”
“The Tickle Monster is real, I tell you.”
“You’re Amazing, Grace. Simply amazing.”
Horror, Psychological Thrillers, Poetry, Flash Fiction
Stories From Within
This is the blog of a woman who is seriously on the edge and I mean right ON the edge…no, not there… just a little bit further… further than that…no, further still…just a tiny bit more… just move slightly to the right a little…no, that’s too much…just move a tad to the left…that’s right, just there…now you’ve moved too far to the left… Damn, what part of the ‘on the edge’ do you not understand? Oh, and her matricidal boy genius, come devil spawn.
Or the three people I guilted into reading this blog, whatever.
Growing older is inevitable. Growing up is optional.
I may make you feel, but I can't make you think.
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AS I TOLD THE GIRL THAT I LOST MY VIRGINITY TO, THANKS FOR LAUGHING AT ME HERE TODAY.
I don't write, I touch without touching.
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Stylistically Abusing Language for the Betterment of Mankind
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And the worst things. And all that weird stuff in between.