Satire

My Best Producing Stories Seem To Be Satirical Rants

Why That’s Not Necessarily A Problem

I remember well those times (self-pity parties) when I used to think (b*tch, whine and moan) about how great it would be if a story I’d worked so hard on (forty-two minutes) got at least a thousand claps (before the claps to reads unpleasantness).

I kept telling myself back then how awesome that would be. The strange thing I’ve noticed is that my firey satirical rant pieces usually garnish more views reads and claps (I know they don’t count claps anymore but I still love ’em) than most of my other articles.

Interestingly enough, I’ve never been much of a ranter and raver. Sure I often experience things that royally piss me off. Don’t we all? I just was never much for leaping up on a stump and publically proselytizing.

Lately, especially after reading all the calming, meditative life hacks from my sister and brother writers, I’m discovering ways to turn my thoughts inward and chill. You know, like that duck and the water thing? Just let it roll right off my back.

Until I don’t.

It all started back in August of 2019 when I was challenged by a writing sister to tell everybody how I felt about getting reads but no claps. Now, remember, back then claps were how we got paid, so getting the claps back then was a good thing and didn’t require medication.

I even received an honorable mention from the king of rants himself Lon Shapiro. Proud moment folks. Proud, proud moment.

So after letting off a little steam and readjusting the temperature control on my internal pressure cooker I set my sights on the daily business of writing Henry James stories and other things that popped into my head.

Merrily I rolled along, rolled along, rolled along.

And then I rolled right off the track.

It was a lifetime ago, (January of this year) but I remember it well. As I traditionally do, I write a lot and I read a lot. And what I was reading was a ton of commentaries from my fellow writers about how pissed off they were.

Well, the more I read, the more pissed off I got. And the pressure in my noggin’s cooker got higher and higher. It got so high I needed to vent or bust.

I vented.

Satirical evisceration never felt so good, and it seemed as though I’d touched a few nerves from at least 31 fans who by their reactions seemed as though they were nodding in agreement.

Who knew poking the bear could be so much fun and at the same time illicit hearty cheers of go, P.G., go!

Okay, there were no cheers but I’m pretty sure I heard something. Maybe it was those voices I keep hearing coming from a box of Cheerios in the pantry. Yeah, I told you guys yesterday, we’re out of milk. Cool your jets until me and the missus go to the store.

Ahem.

So not all of my stories have been a complete and dismal bust. I’ve had some poetry and opinion pieces that have made it to the top of my tiny little hillock.

But for the most part, my rants get raves.

Although I really enjoy spawning thought-provoking pieces of things going on in this world, pieces that resonate with the reader, it seems as if my satirical rants have taken center stage.

Much like my last rant a couple of weeks ago. Who knew puking over all the craziness going on here would be such a hit?

So there you have it folks. I suppose the proof is in the pudding (unless it’s rice pudding or tapioca). Why in the h*ll my satirical rants of written napalm get top billing I’m not really sure, but they do.

So I guess I’ll continue to fiddle in my chair as the world (Maybe just Rome?) burns and I’ll experience something that fans the flames of my ire and probably write about it. From where I sit, I don’t think the fact my rants are getting better traction is necessarily a problem.

Even a rant has to get a little loving too don’t ya think?

Thanks So Much For Reading

Let’s keep in touch: [email protected]

© P.G. Barnett, 2020. All Rights Reserved.