Today's topic for Knitting and Crochet Blog week is:
This is an experimental blogging day to try and push your creativity in blogging to the same level that you perhaps push your creativity in the items you create.
There are no rules of a topic to blog about (though some suggestions are given below) but this post should look at a different way to present content on your blog. This can take one of many forms, but here a few suggestions:
- Wordless, photographic post
- Video blog post
- Podcast
- Cartoon/sketch of an idea
- Write about a subject from a different perspective (for example, you could write about a day in the life of a knitted sock from the point of view of the sock).
- Interpretive modern dance (why does someone always suggest this?
- A poem or piece of rhyming verse
- Stop motion animation
Tips: The actual subject matter of the post might be quite dependent on the media method(s) you choose to use and as such there is no specific ‘topic’ to blog on. You could blog about a recently completed project, a knitting experience, a trip to the LYS or anything else that takes your fancy. The point behind this post is to get people thinking about using their blogs in different ways and pushing he boundaries of what they use their blogging platform for.
PS: Yes, it is April Fool’s Day, so have fun with the post.
Well, I can tell you right now that the Video Blog Post, Podcast, Interpretive Modern Dance, Poem and Stop Motion Animation are not happening. I also won't be doing an April Fool's day post because I just can't top World of Warcraft's Crabby or Think Geek's Angry Bird Pork Rinds. So that just leaves a sketch of an idea - which kinda defeats the purpose of doing something different since the sketch would be about a crochet project - or writing about a subject from a different perspective - meh - or a picture post - which is pretty much all I do (BTW, any suggestions for Meatlocker Monday?)
I think I'll just post a bit from the story I've been working on instead :)
The vagrant had chosen to fall asleep across the wrong doorstep this time; instead of being rudely awoken by a kick to the side and being told to move by a grumpy shop keep, he was pulled to his feet and shoved in the back of a wagon. It was crowded with other poor souls who stunk just as badly as he did, and one or two moaned in pain as he collided with them. Blinking away the last of his drunken haze, he was able to make out a man dressed in the uniform of the city guard shutting the door and locking it. He had heard rumors that the King had wanted to clean up the streets of Anglon’s capital, but this was a bit extreme.
“Another happy colonist!” The man cried out. “And another groat for us!”
“Only if they’re still breathing when we get them to the docks. They won’t pay for dead ‘uns.” Another guard poked the vagrant with the butt of his staff to make sure the man was still alive - as if his groan of pain hadn’t been a good enough sign.
A colonist? Docks? The vagrant hadn’t signed up for any sort of expedition... at least he didn’t think he had. It was, he admitted to himself, quite possible that he agreed to something without realizing it since the barkeep at his favorite tavern had been a bit heavy handed with the whiskey the night before. But, despite whatever he had done last night, he did not want to be a colonist now! It wasn’t his destiny! Not that he had much of one anymore, but despite that he was quite happy drinking his life away in the very city that should have been his! The vagrant surged into action; he lunged forward, grabbed the guard’s staff and twisted, jerking him him around and flinging him to the ground. The other guard was just as quick as the vagrant though. Instead of using his staff to poke the vagrant away from the rails, he opted to hit him over the head with it, knocking him senseless. The vagrant dropped to the floor, the morning sky and the surprised faces of his fellow captives spinning above him.
He rolled onto his belly and tried to scramble to his feet again so he could continue to fight back. However the guard’s staff collided with his head yet again. He collapsed again, and reached up with gentle fingers to see if his head had split in half. It certainly felt like it had. His hand came away dark with blood. One of these days he would have to have a chat with God and ask Him what His fascination was with granting head injuries. Was it because he had had an insufferable ego as a youth?
The guard raised his staff again - but his friend had recovered himself by now and stopped him before he could strike the vagrant for yet a third time. “Don’t! Remember - we don’t get no money if they’re dead!”
“A rebel like him will cause nothing but trouble for our friends...”
“Who cares? They’ll be far away by the time he wakes up after the beating you gave ‘im.” The vagrant had to concentrate to stay concious. The guards in front of him kept splitting from two to four and then back again. “We’ll just say we found ‘im that way.”
Apparently satisfied with his friend’s answer, and with the fact that the troublemaker was subdued, the guard let his friend lead him away. As soon as they were out of sight, the vagrant’s fellow captives knelt around him. He was dimly aware of one of them pressing a rag against his wound. He tried to jerk away from them, from the pain and the throbbing the contact set off, but his limbs refused to listen to him anymore.
“Who does he think he is, attacking one of them like that?” One whispered.
“He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t get the noose!”
“They wouldn’t hang me,” The vagrant mumbled, his words slurring together. “I’m the king’s brother.”
“Sure you are, and I’m Trista the warrior!” An old woman guffawed, but the vagrant had already passed out and was completely oblivious to the other’s heckling.
