BLOGS - They're Here to Stay

"Whether you love 'em, hate 'em or simply ignore 'em, it seems that the reality is that blogs are here to stay." - KyPlowboy, August 2007

No longer are they restricted to personal online journals published for friends and family. Blogs have become big business and are used a good bit in big business to enhance the companies that run them. There are quite a few blogs out there netting in the millions of dollars every year. This phenomenon just seems to keep snow-balling and picking up speed.

This Forum site, for example, is affiliated with 5 blog sites; all inter-linked and mutually supportive of one another. Of course, the goals of this site and those blogs is not to make money except through residual advertising to offset the time and expense of running them.The potential is there and limitless, however, to make a killing through this medium of communication. Where else can you publically market, sell, ship and deliver your wares to a world-wide market for virtually no overhead? For about $300/year you can run a large variety of web sites, blogs and e-commerce sites that reach a global market. If you can reach and sell to 1/10,000th of that market, you will be living pretty high up on the hog. All from the privacy of your home or off your mobile laptop.

There are probably as many marketing strategies to build a successful blog as there are blogs. The Internet is rife with sites that do nothing but teach you how to be a better, more successful blogger. I have reviewed several hundred of these sites and I have found what I believe to be the common core secret to them all. It's so simple and obvious that a lot of people just overlook it.

People don't visit blogs to look at all the pretty colors and flashing lights or hear the bells ring and whistles blow. They come because they are in search of content; the meat and potatoes.

Imagine, if you will, a fine five-star restaurant you have stumbled upon. They have had a cancellation and usher you in to be seated right away. Pretty good so far, eh? A whole staff of servants waits on you and flutters about while you wait on your menu. It finally arrives in the hands of a smiling server and you open it and are immediately perplexed!

It only offers one thing: PB&J Sandwich - $40.00 ($50 w/chips and a drink).

My guess is you would lose whatever appetite you had and let your feet do the talking as you headed for the door!Blogs, or any other website for that matter, need to offer up the 'meat and potatoes' if they want return customers. And the way you do that is by offering a variety fine, delectable treats that they can't wait to be served - each and every trip. To sell something to anyone, you first have to get them inside your shop. Window dressing may catch their eye and get them to peep inside, but if they view empty shelves and cobwebs, chances are they will never be back again. You failed to offer the incentive to return.

If there is one truth in the business world, it is this:

"It is often very hard to gain customers, but it's almost impossible to get them back once you've lost them."

Content. That is the secret thread that holds all successful online sites together. It is no easy task writing good, effective web content, but it can be done with a little study and good practices.

I hope that this area of the forum gets much attention and use, as it is the wave of the future in all manner of commerce, whether you are selling a product, service or even yourself (as a writer).

kpb

Appalachian Writers Forum

The Appalachian Writers Forum

Writing Craft Development & Discussion Web Site
Operated for Writers, by Writers

Are you a writer with ties to the Appalachian Region of the eastern United States? Are you are a writer from elsewhere in the world looking for a place to improve at the craft of writing? Maybe you are an avid reader with a keen interest in the written word and the skills required producing it? If you answered yes to any of these questions then the Appalachian Writers Forum (AWF) may be right for you.

This forum is an offshoot of two writing sites designed to showcase regional writers: Appalachian Writers and Kentucky Farmer. These two sites offer excellent samples of the written word from those regional areas. We would invite and encourage you to visit them as well as the AWF. But writers must continue to grow and learn to improve upon their craft and that was not available on the writer’s sites, per se. An environment for learning, exchanging ideas and practicing the craft was needed. This need was met by the development of AWF. One of the best features of the site is that it is 100% free to join and use!

The Appalachian Writers Forum is a user-friendly web site dedicated to learning the craft of writing, not improving software navigational skills. Its easy-to-learn, easy-to-follow format allows users to "jump right in" and begin participating in forum activities immediately. Assistance is always available through forum administrators as well as an online user’s manual provided as a service to members.

AWF is chucked full of useful information for all skill levels of writers. Under the "Publication" category, for example, you will find information on:

• Selecting publishers to query.
• What is a literary agent and what do they do to help a writer get published?
• What editors love as well as hate.
• Who, in the world of publishing, is soliciting submissions?
  Information on self-publishing and Print-on-Demand (POD) publisher.
• And much more.

The "Helpful Links" category offers members countless links to sites that are of interest to writers. Links to publishers, agents, editors, writing tools and sites to name a few. The best part of these resources is that they are kept fresh with new input from members on a regular basis. And, oh yeah, did we mention that it’s free?

In the "Classroom" category, all manners of subjects are discussed that pertain to the writing craft. Language skills, editing skills, writing prompts and exercises to participate in.

The "Stadium" category is the place to submit your work for the critique of other skilled writers. There are three levels of critique offered here to cater to all levels of writer’s skills. Critiques are done in a professional manner with constructive criticism given in a way to encourage growth and improvement.

The "Library" category offers a vast collection of writer’s resource materials in the form of links to sites that have them. It is here that you will find such things as dictionaries, encyclopedias and guidelines for writing technical pieces (such as those following APA standards). The library is and will remain in a constant state of growth.

The "Discussion" area of the AWF site is dedicated to many genres of writing: fiction, nonfiction, poetry, web content/SEO and essays, to name a few. Members can discuss genre-specific topics here or post samples of their own work for the reading enjoyment of others.

The list of site features goes on and on. If this sounds like the place for you, then come on over and give us test-drive. The Appalachian Writers Forum will be glad you did and we believe you will be too.

Missed Chances...

I suppose the thing that struck me most was how large the oak tree had grown in these past twenty years. When I left home it was in its first year and maybe five feet tall. Now its massive knurled arms held a million leaf-covered fingers in a canopy that covered the small yard with shade. The old house looked the same with its redbrick facade and white soffit, yet some how different. Maybe the knowledge that neither anyone I knew nor myself lived there anymore gave it a foreign appearance. “You can’t go home again,” they say and the meaning of that phrase became crystal clear to me as I slipped the car into gear and slowly drove away.

I looked left and right in mechanical fashion as I drove past the homes I grew up around. I wondered if anyone I knew even lived here anymore. Maybe a few lingered on but my guess is that most were long gone now. No matter, I was not here to see anyone anyway. To tell the truth, I was not sure why I was here at all. This visit had no logical reason to it other than I just wanted to see things here one more time before I put it behind me and moved on.

There was Suzie Jenson’s house with that carport where we both had our first kiss. The old porch swing that had hung there was gone now but its image was fresh in my head. We had sat there nervously swinging back and forth in the pale glow of a yellow porch light. I felt the hand that I held tremble a bit as I leaned my face into hers and our lips touched. I could have stayed there forever, and just might have, if her father hadn’t been watching us through the kitchen window. He damn near tore that door off the hinges and squalled for Suzi to get in the house. “You get your ass home, Paul Miller and don’t you come back here again ‘til I send for ya,” he had said. I grinned to myself a little as I thought about it. He would have shit a meat axe if he knew that kiss was not the only ‘first’ Suzi and me would share further on down the road that summer.

Across the street and one house down was where Billy Crowder lived. The old cinder-block garage we used to sneak behind with stolen cigarettes was still there but in bad need of a roof. I remember the day Momma caught us back there and had a bona fide conniption fit. She demanded my pocketknife from me and cut a switch off of one of Mr. Crowder’s apple trees with it. It was about as big around as your little finger and five feet long. She had me by my left wrist and fairly well cut the backs of my legs to pieces with it as we went towards home. She cussed me and prayed to Jesus in the same sentence and breath as we danced down the street in front of God and everybody. All’s well that ends well, I reckon, and I lost my taste for tobacco that day.

The street ended at the main highway, a four-lane road that ran to Nashville in one direction and north to Louisville in the other. There was a traffic light here where none had been my last time home. The old Greyhound sub-station across the road and Joe’s Bar and Grill beside it were gone, their footprints buried under a new road that had emerged over the years. I guess nothing is safe or sacred anymore. I turned with the light and headed towards town.

It was hard to see now through the thick growth of hedge apple trees surrounding the yard, but there on the right sat old Dixie Elementary. I thought how very small it looked now. Its halls seemed so massive to me as a child. It was here that I had learned some of my most important lessons in life. I learned that bloody noses and black eyes don’t hurt near as bad if you win the fight, broken hearts are not fatal and even grandmothers have to die. I was shown the world is not a happy, friendly place every time we had a civil defense drill in the hallway. “Sit on the floor with your backs against the wall, pull your knees to your chest and place your head between your legs,” they told us. But they didn’t tell us everything. They left out the part about kiss ‘your ass goodbye’ because you ain’t walking away from a nuclear attack. But we all knew it intuitively.

I moved on up the road until I came to the little strip mall on the left where we used to get our groceries. Winn-Dixie on one end and A & P on the other kept one another honest for the customers. Between them lay the drug store, the bakery, a barbershop, the old ‘Ten-Cent Store’ – Woolworth’s and the bank. The buildings were still there but I didn’t recognize a single business in them. The memories rushed over me as I recalled those hot summer days when Ronnie and me would ride our bikes the mile or so to get here. One or the other of us had done a chore for somebody and had fifty cents or a dollar, maybe. We had a pact that way, a “one for all, all for one” understanding that the good fortunes of one was good fortune for the other as well. Candy bars were a nickel then and donuts were three cents each. Ice cold bottles of pop were a dime at the bakery. A half dollar would find us over under the big maple trees across the street at the church eating 10 donuts and washing them down with a couple of cool drinks. Only my memories remain of those days now, the rest of it has gone.

I glanced left at my old high school on the left as I waited for the light to change. There had been much added on to it since I attended. I hardly recognized it anymore. School was out now and only a few cars were in front of the main building, probably maintenance men or janitors. The light changed and I made a right turn before I had time to get lost in thought about my high school days.

Most of the businesses here on Old Third Street road had changed, too. Burger Chef was gone and so was that little diner where our neighbor Ann had worked after her husband died. Champ’s Roller Rink, just before the railroad crossing, was now a small warehouse of some kind. But the times we had there! As a matter of fact, it was here that I spent my last night in this town.

It was like almost every other Saturday night. At least it started out that way. I was at Champ’s with Ronnie to see what kind of luck we would have with the ladies. Ronnie had pilfered a pint of Canadian Mist from his father’s liquor cabinet and we were not having a bit of trouble in the courage department. We hooked up with Cathy Crawford and her little sister, Mary Beth. We flirted and laughed and skated around the floor backward for a while. Every so often, Ronnie and me would excuse ourselves and slip outside for another sip of courage. Eventually we ended up leaving with the girls in tow, headed to a little secluded spot down by the river.

The radio was blaring inside the little Chevelle as I pulled out of the parking lot and turned right and headed across the railroad tracks there. The crossing guard must have been broken and I never saw the train. The last thing I remember was Cathy’s screams being drowned out by the train’s horn, a great concussion and then nothing.
I awoke in a hospital bed in the jail wing of the hospital. As soon as the doctor had examined me and determined I was lucid enough to talk, a sheriff’s deputy stepped forward and read me my rights and the charges against me. Three counts of vehicular homicide, he said. The rest is history, as they say. My history.

My folks both died while I was in prison. They left me what they had in a bank account so I could try to start my life over when I got out. I made parole this week but I will never be out of this prison in my head. Every night for the last twenty years when I laid down to sleep, six eyes stared at me from the dark ceiling of my cell. I can’t imagine that being anything but a life sentence.

The last big holiday of the Summer is fast approaching and with it the parties and celebrations. I hope everyone has fun and stays safe. I am running this piece in hopes that someone, somewhere will read it and think before they make a mistake like the character in the story.

Got Caught Speeding Again...

Read This Slowly...

Allen took a long look at his speedometer before slowing down: 73 in a 55 zone. Fourth time in as many months. How could a guy get caught so often?

When his car had slowed to 10 miles an hour, Allen pulled over, but only partially. Let the cop worry about the potential traffic hazard. Maybe some other car will tweak his backside with a mirror. The cop was stepping out of his car, the big pad in hand.

Jim? Jim from Church? Allen sunk farther into his trench coat. This was worse than the coming ticket. A cop catching a guy from his own church. A guy who happened to be a little eager to get home after a long day at theoffice. A guy he was about to play golf with tomorrow.

Jumping out of the car, he approached a man he saw every Sunday, a man he'd never seen in uniform.

"Hi, Jim. Fancy meeting you like this."

"Hello, Allen." No smile.

"Guess you caught me red-handed in a rush to see my wife and kids."

"Yeah, I guess." Jim seemed uncertain. Good.

"I've seen some long days at the office lately. I'm afraid I bent the rules a bit -just this once."

Allen toed at a pebble on the pavement. "Eva said something about roast beef and potatoes tonight. Know what I mean?"

"I know what you mean. I also know that you have a reputation in our precinct ." Ouch. This was not going in the right direction. Time to change tactics.

"What'd you clock me at?"

"Seventy. Would you sit back in your car please?"

"Now wait a minute here, Jim. I checked as soon as I saw you. I was barely nudging 65." The lies seemed to come easier with every ticket.

"Please, Allen, in the car"

Flustered, Allen hunched himself through the still-open door. Slamming it shut, he stared at the dashboard. He was in no rush to open the window. The minutes ticked by. Jim scribbled away on the pad.

Why hadn't he asked for a driver's license?

Whatever the reason, it would be a month of Sundays before Allen ever sat near this cop again. A tap on the door jerked his head to the left. There was Jim, a folded paper in hand Allen rolled down the window a mere two inches, just enough room for Jim to pass him the slip.

"Thanks." Allen could not quite keep the sneer out of his voice.
Jim returned to his police car without a word. Allen watched his retreat in the mirror. Allen unfolded the sheet of paper. How much was this one going to cost?

Wait a minute. What was this? Some kind of joke?Certainly not a ticket. Allen began to read:

"Dear Allen, Once upon a time I had a daughter. She was six when killed by a car. You guessed it- a speeding driver. A fine and three months in jail, and the man was free. Free to hug his daughters, all three of them. I only had one, and I'm going to have to wait until Heaven before I can ever hug her again. A thousand times I've tried to forgive that man. A thousand times I thought I had. Maybe I did, but I need to do it again. Even now. Pray for me. And be careful, Allen, my son is all I have left.

Jim"

Allen turned around in time to see Jim's car pull away and head down the road. Allen watched until it disappeared. A full 15 minutes later, he too, pulled away and drove slowly home, praying for forgiveness and hugging a surprised wife and kids when he arrived.

Life is precious. Handle with care. This is an important message; please pass it along to your friends. Drive safely and carefully. Remember, cars are not the only things recalled by their maker.

Funny how you can send a thousand jokes through e-mail and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages regarding the sanctity of life, people think twice about sharing.

Funny how when you go to forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you for sending it to them.

Pass this on, you may save a life. Maybe not, but we'll never know if we don't try.

I found this piece over on my friend Jeff's blog and thought I would put it here for my other friends to see. It seems very timely to think about with Labor Day weekend coming up and school starting again. The streets will be full of children. In one instant of poor decisions, lives are changed forever. Just think about it...think about it.

Rain

Rain...

Finally getting a little of it this morning. We got about an hour of a shower Sunday evening and now it is raining a little more this morning. It is not so much in inches as it is in our spirits that this will measured.

We have had a heat wave the last 4 weeks now with over 90 degrees every day. That is not common for us here and has set new records for the length of such highs. It looks as though this will continue through Saturday with several days topping 100 degrees and very high humidity.

It has been and will continue to be hard for us here throughout the Fall and Winter. The best we can hope for now are enough rains to revive the pastures and soybeans enough to get us through til next year. This is going to be a hard year through late next Spring because of this drought. I hope we don't have a repeat next year. Many of us won't survive it farming if we do. We are only hanging on by hopes and prayers now and another year like this one will see us done.

But today we have rain, so there is some hope in that...

Making the Most of the Brief Reprieve.

We had a weak cold front come through on Thursday. The rain all went North of us, but the temps dropped about 10 degrees and there is almost no humidity. We'll take it!!! lol Wednesday and Thursday both set records with 103 and 105 respectively. And put very high humidity on top of that and it was almost unbearable. But you take what you get in the weather department.

Rick and me took advantage of the "cold snap" and chopped silage all day yesterday and today. The silo is almost full and we will let it settle tonight and make a little more room. We have about 4 more wagon loads to chop if we can get it in the silo. We will do that about noon tomorrow.

We had been wondering if there was even gonna be any silage, or corn too, for that matter. This drought has really hurt the local farmers here. Poor crop production, livestock woes and the tobacco is not being helped by it either. It has just been a very rough year all the way around. But we will all make it, we have no choice but to make it.

Still Hangin' in There...

Well, I don't have to tell anybody who has been within 500 miles of here in any direction but it's HOT! We have set record after record here for the number of days in a row that it has been over 90 degrees. I think it has been almost 4 weeks now like that. It always gets hot in August, but hardly ever stays that way relentlessly.

Even that would not be too bad if we had gotten any kind of rain at all. The last good rains we had were in late June and a few minor events in early July. Since then....nothin'.

Tobacco kinda thrives in hot weather, but it still needs a good rain now and then, not as much as corn or soybeans, but some. My tobacco was bearing with it til about a week ago and then it started 'firing'. That is when the bottom leaves start dying, turning brown and crumbling up to fall off. Then it moves up the plant the drier the weather gets. Crops across the state are losing tens of thousands of pounds per week as this continues on. Tobacco that was topped before it began will fare better, but there is a large segment of the total crop that is just now being topped. Tobacco gains about 1/2 of its total weight in the last 1/3 of its life except when something like this happens. It is not going to be a very good year for tobacco farmers, I fear. We will have to cut it before full maturity just to stop the losses in the field. But there is always next year, eh? rofl

And I ain't even gonna get into cattle and pastures and the lack of hay for this winter. Just understand it is not looking good for the home team there either. "But what about government aid programs?" Yeah, right...and then you woke up. rofl.

Oh well, you pays yo' money and you takes yo' chances, as they say.

New Feature Added to Site

I have added a Calendar of Events to Plowboy's Porch for your viewing pleasure. I hope you find this feature helpful and use it often.

Check here for regional and Appalachian-wide writers events, craft shows and fairs. I will also post special events as we have them.

If you, your club or organization has an event scheduled and would like to list it here, please send your listing to Calendar of Events.

Include the following information:

Name of Event
Date(s)
Location & Directions
Sponsor (if applicable)
Brief Description
POC email/phone number

Killing Time...

"What are you doing?" I asked.
The old man never looked up
Or batted an eye as he spoke.
"Nothin' much, just killin' time."

My nod of affirmation ignored,
I quietly walked away.
One would think a man of his years
Would hold a better grip on reality.

How many days of waste
Had this old fool seen?
Killing an enemy that will not die
And lulls you into complacency

In the hands of time
Is held the shovel
That will cover us all
In our graves.

Copyright © 2007 Mike Lawson

True Patriotism!!!

I recently had the opportunity to share an evening with some old friends of mine (Mr. & Mrs. "S" ) at a restaurant here in town. As the evening bore on and several adult beverages were consumed, the stories got better and rowdier as we went. The night was quite enjoyable and filled with the laughter of good company.

There were occasions throughout the evening, I noticed, that Mrs. S snorted as she laughed. Now, before you go pointing fingers in her direction and snickering, consider this. I had learned from conversations with Mrs.S that she had liaisons with Ft. Knox as pertains to her employment. She passed it off as her being a Belly Dancer at the Senior NCO club, but after I studied it a bit, I think that was just a cover; a ruse, if you will.

I think she really works on some highly classified government projects and should be saluted for her efforts by one and all. I came across this article in the Howe Valley Howler later and it all just seemed to fall into place...the snorts...the hoots...Ft Knox...

* * * * *

The Howe Valley Howler

Buford P. Snodgrass - Staff Writer

What a phenomenom the snort poses! I would think somewhere in an undergound laboratory, tucked away in dark secrecy, many studies have been done on this very topic (undoubtedly at a huge taxpayer's expence). It has enormous potential as a secret weapon. Envision this if you will:

"Early reports are in from the field as the Army tested its new SG-1 Agent on actual enemies in combat today. Initially, at least, it looks as if the results are quite satisfactory. Reports indicate that the SG-1 (nicknamed 'Snort Gas' ) was administered to a large group of insurgents surrounded in Sadr City, Iraq.

Application of the agent was accomplished by rocket-propelled grenades. Almost immediately, hostile fire stopped coming from the insurgents positions followed by a thundering roar of uncontollable snorts. One soldier on hand had this to say, "Holy Jeebus! It sounded like slaughter day at a Jimmy Dean's sausage plant in there! We just walked right in and took 'em prisoner without incident. I swear, I ain't never seen the likes of it before!"

Currently, the Army is working on an improved and even more viable SG product for those enemies that may prove to have stronger resolve. The SG-H-1/UU is almost available for field testing and will be forwarded to the troops in Afghanistan within the month to test in the field on Talaban Fighters.

This family of weapons is based on the SG-1's basic grade material but introduces an H-factor to induce 'hooting' as well as UU -additives to initiate 'uncontrollable urination'.

High hopes are being held out for the use of this technology as it could end the bloodshed in a matter of weeks. As one senior level official from the Pentegon put it, "There is nothing silly about our snorting. We believe this technology holds the power for world peace. Our investigations have not stopped short in snorts. We will continue to follow our noses as we develop the field of snort technology. We are looking into all sorts of snorts and intend to 'bring home the bacon' with this project. That is if we can overcome opposition on the Hill from those squealing anti-snort snots. Our snoots sniff snorts as the wave of the future, so they might as well quit sniveling about it."

More on this break-through as we 'sniff it out??? Back to you, Arnold"

I have great fear that Mrs. S has become contaminated with some of this agent, as could only happen if she were involved in its development. Seems I do recall a hoot or two coming from her between snorts and trips to the ladies room.

What a sacrifice for anyone to make for their country and world peace!!! My hat is off to you, dear lady! SALUTE!!!

Just Thinkin' Out Loud Again...

"Death will come for all of us so that life may remain important" - Rednecromancer

13 simple words that sum up our meager existance here and why we should make every minute count for something. The five seconds it took to read this may be coming off of the last 60 you have.

Cybernetic Nexus - Writer's Forum

Are you a writer looking for a place to talk freely with other writers about the craft? Maybe you are looking for a writer to help you with that special project you are working on. You may be a reader with a burning interest in the written word that is simply looking for new authors to read. Whatever your interests in writing or writers, there is not a single source site for all of these needs. At least there wasn’t until now! Cybernetic Nexus at www.cyberneticnexus.com provides this service. Cybernetic Nexus is a forum for writers of all genres to gather, join in open discussions and post queries to other writers. Having problems researching new material for a piece? Post a query to other writers asking for help or ideas. Just learned a new trick of the trade or found a hot new writer’s resource site? Post it in the proper genre or topical area of the site and spread the word or get helpful feedback! Cybernetic Nexus is a writer’s forum administered by a writer for writers. Of course, everyone is welcome that has an interest in the written word, whether they write or just like to read and learn about writing. And best of all, it’s free to join and become a member! Author/Novelist Shannon “Tommy” Thomas, www.shannonthomas.org, is the writer behind the controls at Cybernetic Nexus. His own words serve as the best way to convey the nature and intent of this writer’s forum. Tommy says, “Some may wonder why I chose the name “Cybernetic Nexus” for this place, since that name doesn’t immediately convey any notions of writing or editing or anything else pertaining to the subject matter on this forum. I could go into a huge speech about it, but perhaps the main reason is best explained by the definition of the core words: cy•ber•net•ics (sī’bər-nět’ĭks)n. (used with a sing. verb)The theoretical study of communication and control processes in biological, mechanical, and electronic systems, especially the comparison of these processes in biological and artificial systems. nex•us [nek-suh s]n. plural nex•us•es, nex•us.1. a means of connection; tie; link2. a connected series or group3. the core or center, as of a matter or situation.4. Cell Biology. a specialized area of the cell membrane involved in intercellular communication and adhesion." That’s what this place is truly all about: People using machines to come together, connect at a central core and communicate.” Cybernetic Nexus is composed of various forums covering a large spectrum of the writing craft. Included in these sections are:  Freelancing – Like the name indicates, this section is devoted to discussions and feedback about the different facets of freelance writing.  Killing Babies – Writer’s term for the editorial process. Here you will find discussions on this process, editorial tips and tricks of the trade.  Publication – This forum is directed towards writers who are interested in obtaining publication of their work. Discussions may range from finding an agent to preparing the manuscript to self-publishing through a print-on-demand publishing company.  Contests! – Writers and organizations are encouraged to post announcements of upcoming contests and publication opportunities here.  Links – Members are allowed to post links to sites that may be of interest to those pursuing the writing craft.  Deus ex Machina – This forum allows members to start a thread in an area of writing not specifically laid out in other more pointed forums.  Forums on Genre Specific Areas – These sections comprise forums for the discussion of Fiction, Poetry, Nonfiction and Erotica.  Website Questions & Concerns – This area serves as a place to voice complaints, suggestions or critiques of the Cybernetic Nexus website. The most important and diverse element of Cybernetic Nexus is the body of members that comprise it. Stop by and check it out if you think it might be a place of interest to you. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain. See you there! Sources: cybernetic. (n.d.). Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1). Retrieved December 30, 2006, from Dictionary.com website: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/cybernetic nexus. (n.d.). Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1). Retrieved December 30, 2006, from Dictionary.com website: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/nexus