Indie Author Answers #29: Should I Blog?

Here were go again, my friends, so let’s get the mother started…

The tip this week is about blogging: should you do it? What’s the point? Listen on for my thoughts on whether or not blogging has any place in this brave new world of the 2015 internet.


And now, The Problematic Virtue, Part 3, Chapter 4:


4: Megan


Megan, in grey Juicy Couture sweatpants and matching hoodie, jogged along 9th street on a frigid January morning. The sun had scaled the skyscrapers of downtown Denver, the Flatirons to the west now painted in shades of pink and yellow. Early mornings were her favorite time to run, with no traffic, therefore no street noise. Only her breathing and the sound of her footfalls kept her company. However, she could not focus on any of that, because her mind raced with thoughts of Walker, although now she suspected that name had a prefix of Agent Walker, or Special Agent Walker. She did not know for certain, because Megan had not called the number. The card with the simple black text resided in a locked box underneath Megan’s bed, although Megan had memorized the phone number by the time she arrived home that day. That happened two weeks ago, and not a day passed that Megan had not thought about that tall, blonde, ponytailed woman with the plastic smile and clickety heels.

She began the hill up 9th towards Mapleton, slowing her pace on the steep grade. This section of the run reminded her of evenings she had spent with Chris before he went overseas. They ran this route three times a week. She had loved having a boyfriend so into physical activity, and so into taking proper care of his body.

She quickened her pace, despite the incline pulling her glutes and hamstrings into taut cords. The other option that she had considered, instead of calling Walker, would be to tell Derek Wiles about the meeting at Noodles & Company. On the one hand, she did live with the guy and despite being an asshole, he was (more or less) family. She resented him for multiple reasons, but that did not mean she wanted him to go to jail. On the other hand, if she tipped him off, would that make her an accessory when they caught him, which they eventually would? After all, she had not technically done anything wrong yet. Or had she?

Is the fact that I live in the same house as someone dealing drugs a crime if I don’t report it?

She wished she could trade her either her Psych or Philosophy major for something to do with Criminal Law.  Some kind of useful degree. She had no idea whom to approach with those kinds of legal questions.

A random idea struck her to dye her hair. Maybe bright red, or deep black with pink highlights; something outrageous. In a few seconds, the urge passed.

Also possible, if she told Wiles, he might do something rash. Derek had quite a mean streak. She had seen him yell, throw things, and he had terrorized the frat boy on the basketball court. She had never seen anything like it. That poor guy, Clay, had avoided her after all that. Not even a glance when they crossed paths on campus.

When she reached Mapleton, she changed direction, towards the mountains. A recent dusting of snow had left the surrounding trees sparkling white with the dry, powdery stuff, and the scenery looked nothing short of picturesque. Megan normally loved this street, but today, it seemed too formidable a challenge to empty her mind enough to notice it all.

After her run, she mixed a smoothie in her kitchen. Mango, blueberries, soymilk, and a scoop of whey protein powder. As the blender created her breakfast, Wiles stumbled into the kitchen, his hands over his ears. Wearing only his boxer shorts, Megan resisted the urge to ogle his body. Not quite as chiseled as Chris, but still impressive without his shirt.

“Do you have to do that every morning?” he said.

“How often do you have people over here until the middle of the night, blasting your music and playing drinking games?”

Wiles yawned, stretched his back, and then farted. Megan scowled, which made Wiles laugh. “I know you act like you’re King Bitch around here, but that’s all about to change.”

Megan filled a cup with her thick purple beverage. “Oh yeah, why is that?”

“I thought I should tell you that I made a decision, and I told Chris about that frat boy you were making out with last month.”

A second or two passed before Megan realized what Wiles had just said. When it sank in, she slammed her cup onto the counter. Berry slush jumped out onto the linoleum. “Why would you do that?”

Wiles opened the refrigerator, grabbed a can of Coke, and popped it open. “Because blow me, that’s why. I changed my mind. That’s my brother you’re fucking around on. I don’t know why I agreed not to say anything about it in the first place.”

“It was a one-time thing,” she said. “Just a stupid mistake. Why the hell did you have to go and… damn it, Derek. Do you have any idea the kind of trouble you’ve caused?”

Me? You better check yourself. I’m not the one playing kissy-face with a motherfucking fratboy who’s not my husband. Have fun explaining that to Chris. Don’t worry, though, I gave him all the details already so you won’t have to re-tell him the whole story.”

Wiles chugged the Coke and let out a caustic belch before tossing the empty can to Megan. She caught it and squeezed the aluminum until it crinkled.