Tag Archives: guest post

I wrote some Stuph.

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Twindaddy graciously invited me to write a guest post on his formidable corner of the Intertron, and I, of course, was all over that.

Then – surprise, surprise – Wee Cee commandeered the keyboard while I was busy watching Arthur (because, let’s be honest, I am more of a fan than she is. She has yet to appreciate the tragic humor of beauty school dropout Binky Barnes.) What resulted was a meeting of the minds between her and Baby C, TD’s toddler.

I guess that makes the title of this post a lie, as I didn’t write some stuph. She did.

Pop on over and check it out.

Don’t make the babies cry.

wee ceebaby-c-trooper

Beyond Self-Promotion: Some Whys and Hows of Guest Blogging

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Last week, I bought a book. It is the book adaptation of one of my favorite blogs, Lame Adventures. Yours truly – Madame Tightwad – couldn’t buy this book fast enough and would have forked over a bit more of my money had V asked me to, but she’s a good person and has priced her book very fairly. She lovingly referred to Lame Adventures: Unglamorous Tales From Manhattan as the “Manhattan Project” while it was in the works, and it details her exploits in the Big Apple.

I likely would not have purchased her book if it weren’t for a little thing called guest blogging. I first learned of V’s existence in October 2012 because she wrote a guest post on A Clown on Fire. I clicked over and have been hooked ever since. If we simplify the equation, her guest post equaled a new follower which equaled a book sale. Literal dollars. But big heart symbols too.

It got me thinking about the way effective guest blogging works. We may not all be selling something or even really care about hitting some set of arbitrary pageview goals, but as writers and bloggers, I think we can all agree that getting more return readers is something that we are interested in doing. Guest blogging is a potential way to do it and meet new friends, but so often I glaze over the instant someone puts up a post on their blogs written by someone else. There are two reasons for my indifference.

First, the host blogger often admits in a forward to the guest post that s/he is bogged down with life and that’s why s/he invited someone else to post that particular day. Basically, the guest blogger is a babysitter. Who respects the babysitter? Not me. That’s not to say you shouldn’t invite someone to guest post when you don’t have time to post yourself; just don’t advertise your absenteeism. Frame the guest blogger as someone to look forward to, not just an afterthought to your weeklong red wine binge.

Two, the guest post is often so self-promoting that it’s basically a commercial. Great, so Stanley Steamer is babysitting me. Good times in the blogosphere.

What makes a guest post work? I have a few ideas.

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A good guest post seamlessly merges the style and content of the host blogger with the style and content of the guest blogger/writer. Readers are savvy and they can detect awkward from a mile away. If you ask someone to guest post on your blog, make sure it’s a logical pairing. Even though it was hilarious and awesome when Snoop Dogg made a guest appearance on the Martha Stewart show, the same cannot be said of blogging. If the pairing is too random, your readers and theirs likely won’t hang around until the end of the post. You shouldn’t be carbon copies of each other, but seek out someone whose experience and style fills in the gaps of your own writing.

A good guest post has been given some thought by the host blog. If you invite someone to a potluck, you usually provide general guidelines on what they should bring so you don’t end up with only 9,000 paper plates, 30 pounds of ice, and one dish of potato salad. So it is with guest blogging. When you invite someone to guest post, consider giving them a bit of a prompt if they’re having trouble coming up with something on their own. This is what makes Le Clown’s guest series “A Canadian Clown in Gunland” work. In each post, bloggers lead Le Clown on a tour of their city. This framework is specific yet general enough for the guest blogger to show off their skills to an audience that may not know them. The guest blogger’s style and personality shines through the prompt.

A good guest post is shiny and sparkly and represents the best work a blogger has to offer. I look back at some of the guest posts I’ve written in the past and I cringe because I clearly did not give them as much attention or time as I give to posts for The Waiting. Not only is this insulting to the host blogger who basically invited me into his or her own house, but I also wasn’t doing myself any favors by showing up with less than my A game. Each guest post you write has the potential to bring new followers in, not to mention strengthen your versatility as a writer. Get dressed up and shampoo your hair for once. You will likely want to promote your piece among your own readers. If they click over to your guest post, don’t serve them up some watered-down version of yourself.

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Sound good? Want to write a guest post? Want to host a guest post? You know I have some opinions on going about doing that, too. Hang on as the insufferable know-it-allity continues.

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Read some solid multi-author blogs and figure out why exactly they are working. Sometimes I hate it when I am looking for a set of instructions to do XYZ and that list includes something as boring and passive as reading. Gaaaaaah. But it’s true that by taking a step back and looking objectively at blogs that aren’t authored by one specific blogger (Kidz Showz and The Official How-To Blog, I’m looking in your direction), aspiring guest bloggers and host blogs can learn a lot about writing in a place that isn’t necessarily their own cozy corner of the Intertron. Multi-author blogs thrive on collaboration and the strength of their many moving parts. They have to have a strong sense of purpose and a clear objective to have any kind of resonance among the blogging community. Figure out what’s working for them and adapt it to your own situation. Even consider contributing to them if you think your work fits in.

Make sure you know the host blogger before you solicit a guest post to them. My friend Jells of I’ll Sleep When They’re Grown recently posted about random companies contacting her to guest post on her family blog. Anyone who is familiar with Jells knows that her writing is fantastic because it is almost exclusively about the everyday occurrences of her and her kids. Her writing breathes because she cares. Her distinctive style is what keeps me coming back. Why would she ever be in need of someone to write filler copy?

Although I know none of you would get all spammy like that (right? Riiiiiiight?), there’s still something to learn: be sure when you pitch an idea for a guest post to a blogger that it fits within the milieu of what they’re doing. Do a quick search to see if they have even run guest spots before. If they haven’t, think long and hard about asking them to host you. Sometimes it does hurt to ask.

Even if you write/host an outstanding piece, don’t expect to get a plethora of new active followers or sell eleventy billion copies of your book. If I have learned anything from the featured post circuit (coughcough humblebrag), it’s that one great blog post will not endear me to the hearts of all readers and writers the world over. The amount of blogs and bloggers is mind-numbing and even though you may get some new followers after hosting or writing a guest post, it is not likely that you will hear from all of them again. But that’s OK. Don’t discredit the subconscious: once someone sees your name and tucks it in the recesses of their mind, they are far more likely to remember you when they see the name of your blog floating around elsewhere. They may click over to you and get to know you better when they see you commenting elsewhere or when someone retweets you.

So, that’s what I think I know about guest blogging. What do you know? Please tell me in the comments.

Do you smell like a bear?

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Have you ever had an idea that you know has potential but you don’t want to execute it yourself because the last time you did that, you ended up with burnt English muffins when all you wanted was a mini pizza? I was thinking about stupid wine tasting terms the other day as I looked at my gut and realized that it was as flabby as a $2 bottle of ice wine. My mind immediately went to my friend the Liquorstore Bear, who I knew could give the topic of bizarre wine tasting terms a far better sendoff than I ever could. So here he is: the one, the only, Liquorstore Bear.

-Emily

My friend Scarybear knows we’ve ordered pizza before the delivery guy even rings the bell. What’s more, he can tell which toppings we’ve ordered and which pizzeria.

Okay, so you don’t know who the hell Scarybear is. But bear with me.

Many thanks to Emily for allowing me to do a guest post. My friend Scarybear will be delighted that this pic is circulating to yet more readers.

Many thanks to Emily for allowing me to do a guest post. My friend Scarybear will be delighted that this pic is circulating to yet more readers.

When you think of bears you probably think of lumbering, garbage-raiding pests who regularly take a tranq dart for encroaching on campers. Bears (I happen to be one) are famous for being nuisances, but they can’t help it. They have the most awesome noses in the animal kingdom.

It was the ursine nose that enslaved me to wine, but human noses aren’t too shabby (they’re at least a two-thousandth as acute as bear noses). You need to have that olfactory bulb on board to really enjoy wine, and it’s probably better just to smell the wine in the room, not the empties that have already been brought out to the garage, right? Meaning, you humans are probably in the olfactory sweet spot for wine enjoyment, whereas wine’s amazing aromas will eventually drive me mad.

You’re familiar with the welcome wine aromas: oak, tannin, tobacco, leather, spice, berries, orchard fruit, tropical fruit…etc. But when you buy wine within the LBHQ budget (which is to say, a small budget aiming for max wine), you encounter all sorts of unexpected aromas too…

Fair to say, a wine can smell like anything, depending on the (in)competence of the winemaker.

Popcorn

orville rIf you think Orville Redenbacher bottled your vino, you’re not imagining something’s off. Excess diacetyl, formed early on when the yeasts are first converting grape sugar into alcohol, produces that fake butter odor. A little butter isn’t unwelcome in a Chardonnay, but you shouldn’t feel like you’re in a movie theater.

Sweaty horse blanket

One of our local wine consultant’s eyes lit up as she described the slight barnyard notes in a Carmenere. She’s not alone; plenty of wine drinkers adore manure aromas; others (correctly?) think they smell like ass. They indicate the presence of Brettanomyces, a yeast capable of wrecking a wine but acceptable in tiny amounts. (Not to bears with kick-ass noses though!)

Skunk cabbage

Bambi-Flower2Skunky beer has its adherents, but skunk in a wine indicates an excess of sulfur, used in winemaking to inhibit bacteria. Especially in low-nitrogen wines, sulfuric chords assert themselves rudely—rotten eggs, snuffed matches, Scarybear’s farts—making wine undrinkable for all except the most determined alcoholic bears. Riesling and Chardonnay most often fall prey to skunkiness.

Wet packing material

Damp cardboard is a surefire sign that a wine is corked. There is some debate as to what exactly causes cork taint (2-4-6-trichloranisole)—fungus, contact between corks and cardboard packing material, chlorine used to wash the cork, although this practice was discontinued in the 90s. Throw that wine down the sink (unless it will leave you without wine) and get a clean glass for your next bottle; the odor is persistent. And don’t be embarrassed to embrace the screw-top.

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Asparagus

Not asparagus pee, per se, but soggy asparagus itself, this odor may emanate from Sauvignon Blanc and is the result of vinifying underripe grapes. Vegetal odors are all wrong, if you ask me, just like vegetables are all wrong.

Campfire marshmallow

This smell may accompany a brick-red hue (for reds) or a tawny shade (for whites). It signifies oxidation. Some dumbass stored or transported the wine improperly and exposed it to air or high temperatures.

Nail polish remover

Another reason to toss the wine (or take it back to the store if you can), this screeching high note does not belong. It’s a kind of bacterial spoilage known as volatile acidity (VA).

Cat pee

One of the most interesting and even sought-after aromas, feline urine occurs most often in Cabernet Sauvignon and Sauvignon Blanc. The responsible compound, p-mentha-8-thiol-3-one, smells like kitty tinkle only in a specific concentration range, below which it smells herbal and above which it smells like blackcurrants. Wow! Basically you want to attack this wine right away or let it sit for a day so you can bypass the pee phase. Unless you like pee.

Which smells have you encountered with wine?

Guest Post: Beware Average Joe

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I am handing the reins over today to a writer who wishes to remain anonymous for reasons that you’ll understand. In the wake of the Steubenville verdict, a lot has been said about rape culture in the US. In this post, you’ll find an extremely candid discussion of how rape is not isolated to one particular demographic of society. Even the most “upstanding” men can be rapists. – Emily

I want to share a story with you. I’m going to do so anonymously, because the story involves details that can not be made known in our circle and can not be attached to mine or my husband’s name. But the story has to be told.

My husband used to have a best friend. They were frat brothers, but beyond that, they were very, very close…like real brothers. Somehow they survived undergrad, grad school, career changes, financial struggles, being roommates, multiple heartaches, and several moves…all with their friendship intact.

Over time my husband’s former BFF watched my husband marry, start a family, and progress in his career – all the while envious of his success. To our knowledge all he’d ever wanted was a family of his own.

My husband and his former friend both work for the government, they’re both Southern Gentlemen, and by society’s standards, they’re both “catches”. So when my husband’s friend bought his first house with four bedrooms and no children to fill it, our hearts hurt for him. We looked at him and we really hoped that one day he’d find a wonderful woman to love and share a life and family with.

But a few years ago, after the demise of one of his relationships, our eyes were opened to who this man really was…and how alive and well rape culture IS.

My husband and his friend shared drinks and video games the weekend proceeding his recent breakup. And after the drinks had softened their brains just a bit, the video game controllers were set down, and the walls were lowered, and thus began the end of their friendship.

His former friend began sharing with him the events of the night of he and his ex’s breakup. My husband listened with a compassionate and open ear, ready to take his BFF’s side. He told him, “She was insecure.”, “She had Daddy issues.”, “We fought all the time.”, “She never trusted me.” He went on and on and on like this.

But as the alcohol took a firmer hold, he spilled details that have haunted my husband since.

On the night of their breakup, they were taking part in some heavy petting in her car. They’d just seen a movie and had dinner. And they couldn’t wait to make it back to his house. They’d entered into a physical relationship very early, but to our knowledge, they seemed to really enjoy each other’s company, beyond the physical attraction.

As they petted, and rocked the vehicle, just moments before intercourse, she whispered, “No. Stop.” My husband’s former BFF was taken aback by her request. They’d gone “all the way” so many times before, so he assumed it was because they were in a car. But, she corrected him. She told him she felt like this was “all” they did. She felt like their relationship was only a physical one. And she wanted to know that she was more to him than just her body.

The words that came from his lips next were what killed their friendship. With pleading eyes, he looked into my husband’s, and he said, “I mean…it was right there. I was already throbbing. I was ready to go, I had the condom on, and then she just f*ing stopped it. You can’t just stop something like that. That sh*t’s unforgivable.”

My husband’s mouth dropped open. My husband – father to a daughter, older brother to a younger sister, son to a mother, my lover and best friend – his mouth dropped open and he sat speechless. He swallowed hard and asked him what he did next.

And his friend admitted to him…

…he forced himself upon her. He made every excuse in the world for it. He didn’t say “rape” because he didn’t see it as rape. He saw it as an injustice that she denied him and his right. He said she protested at first, but she just needed to be warmed up. He made gross and disgusting observations about her body language that “assured” him she really DID want it, even though she said “No.”

After he was finished, she screamed at him, and left him in the parking lot (they’d taken her car to the movies). And that was the end of their relationship. And somehow…this was all her fault.

My husband excused himself to the bathroom, gathered his composure, and left his former friend’s house, citing he needed to get home immediately. He came home, fell into my arms, and he wept at the monster this man was. He wept that he’d known him for over ten years and never known he was capable of such behavior. In the weeks following my husband confronted him about it and thus ended their friendship. We don’t know what happened to this young woman. But, we do know charges were obviously never brought against him. For to this day he’s single, working his fantastic government job, living in his beautiful suburban house, driving his brand new car, and all the mothers want him to marry their daughter…

and he’s a rapist.

Rape culture isn’t JUST about the act itself. It starts with someone believing that they are owed the sexuality of another. Somewhere down the line somebody taught my husband’s former BFF that it was okay to see women as a vagina to be conquered. Someone, or maybe lots of someones, taught him that he is owed sex from another, simply because he was born with a penis. The phrase “blue balls” is thrown around as a legitimate medical condition, guilting women into taking part in sexual activities they may not really want to take part in. And if they don’t submit, they’re titled a “cock-tease” and, ironically, a “whore” for not putting out.

Rape culture is born when the fathers of sons don’t teach their sons that sex is NOT their birthright. It’s perpetuated by television shows with male casts that redeem sleezy sex fiends, but condemn the women they seduce. (Barney from How I Met Your Mother, for example). Rape culture is sewn into the hearts of young men who ogle at young women freely, citing their wardrobe as the reason for it, and they wouldn’t dress that way if they didn’t “want it”.

Rape culture isn’t JUST about the act itself. It’s about a society that continues to encourage a bullying approach towards sexuality. My husband’s former BFF wasn’t born a rapist. Being born a man didn’t make him one. But, he became one. And it didn’t have to be that way. But it will be that way. It will be that way for other young men, who become grown men, because too few are stepping up and saying, “ENOUGH.”

I have a daughter. At night my husband tucks her into bed, and we have to accept the possibility that she could begin dating a man like his former BFF and this could happen to her as well. And there’s nothing we can do about it. Because not all rapists hide in back alleys, and drive creepy, old minivans. Plenty of them are your next door neighbor, and the cute guy in the cubicle next to you.

Today’s rapist is just your Average Joe. And THAT’S the reason why rape culture is alive and well.

This is a true story, and one my husband and I will carry with us for many years. We’ll hear it every time our daughter goes on a date. We’ll remember it every time she tells us she’s met someone wonderful. We’ll try to trust him, but we won’t. Because we trusted someone once…and we were wrong to.

A Very Important Message Involving Julie Andrews

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It’s Monday morning. You’re waking up right about now and checking your email because that’s what you do before you even eat breakfast. Trust me, I understand. There’s a message saying that there’s a new post on The Waiting.

I am about to throw a major wrench in your plans.

You will not find a new post here today. Nope, you will have to click over to Kidz Showz and see what I’ve cooked up over there.

Do it.

No, really. Do it.

Don’t make me roll my eyes at you.

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A Plea To Young Parents

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I am knee-deep in presents today. I’m laying them all out nice and neatly under our Festivus pole for the big exchange on Friday. So today my practically-Aunt Ellen (she’s actually besfrinn Cameron’s aunt but who’s splitting hairs?) is here to entertain you with a little holiday PSA. Enjoy and I’ll see you Friday! -Emily

Once again it is the festive time of the year. There will be conviviality. There will be good cheer. For the health and well-being not only of yourselves, the parents, but for the safety of your young ones—Please Do Not Drink and Drive. The consequences of doing so could be severe and everlasting.

I myself have followed this wise maxim for years. It is only recently, however, that I have discovered an excellent unintended consequence of a strict adherence to this regime. My children are older now, and they often have to be ferried to and from various events at later and later times of day—or I suppose I should say night. And guess what? I don’t have to do said ferrying because I don’t drink and drive.

Herewith I offer for your delectation some real life examples. Quaff your preferred alcoholic beverage as you peruse.

Situation #1

Time: sometime after 6 pm

Son: Mom, may I spend the night with Andrew?

Mom: Sure! His mom will have to pick you up, though. I’ve had a glass of wine, and Daddy isn’t home yet.

Son: OK.

This exchange exemplifies with laser-like precision how this premise operates in the field.

Situation #2

Time: sometime after 6 pm

Daughter: Mommy, will you take me and Zoe (sic) to the store for ice cream?

Mommy: Nope. I just got through having a glass of wine with dinner. Maybe tomorrow.

Daughter: Rats! Okaay…

This episode earns double points as  children were saved from their unhealthy snack urges!

Situation #3

Time: Approximately 6 pm

Mom: Son, what time will the wrestling match end?

Son: I dunno. Around 8.45 or 9 pm, I am guessing.

Mom: Well, you’ll need to find your own ride home unless you want to wait for Daddy to get out of his meeting. I’ll be putting your sister to bed, and I know I will be having a glass of wine then.

Score triple points for this encounter. Maternal bedtime duties remain sacrosanct while affording an adolescent the opportunity to take responsibility for his own life!

Free at last! Free at last! After all those long years of mommy taxi duties, I am free at last!

I promise this approach can work for you too. It will not be effective, however, to suddenly develop this good driving habit when your child reaches the cynical age of 9 or 10. No. It must be drilled into him from a very early age that Mommy (Sorry, dads. You’re on your own) does not drink and drive. This way your calm statement that you cannot drive them to or fro will be accepted as calmly as it was stated. For so many reasons, I urge you now not to drink and drive.

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About Ellen: Ellen is a total bookworm and bibliophile completing her first semester of library school in the great state of North Carolina. If you live in or near NC, please check out the North Carolina Literary Map which has all kinds of links and info all about the literary life of the state. For those of you wondering whether you can trust the advice she offers in this blog post, it is based on 21 years and counting in the trenches!

Why you (but not too many of you) should go to Iceland

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A few weeks ago, I posted a poor attempt at giving Iceland some cred. Today, I am handing the reins over to Eva from I’d Rather Be in Iceland. She will now undo all the damage I’ve done. Take it away, my British friend! – Emily

I’m very honoured to be guest posting for Emily, who is one of my favourite bloggers.  Emily asked me I volunteered to write a post about Iceland after reading her post about how she can’t remember much of her trip there. After her post, she got a lot of comments about why Iceland, and isn’t it expensive, and what’s there to do, blah blah blah. Well, let me tell you a bit about why I like Iceland. I have to be careful here as Iceland already thinks it has a tourist problem and I shouldn’t be encouraging too many of you to go.  I could (and do) talk about Iceland all day, but here are my top 5 reasons to visit:

1. The way of life. OK, the people are a little strange – so would you be if you lived somewhere where you at least recognised if not knew everyone you passed on the street. They also have weather which is rarely just calm or what most people would consider “good”, and daylight hours which can be all or nothing. So they’ve got some things to contend with that most of us don’t, including having to live up to a reputation of being “creative” that Björk has landed them with.

Despite this they are generally nice people and have the common sense that comes from living in a population that is isolated and small enough that they can do what they want without a lot of world interest. Why shouldn’t a stand-up comedian be the mayor of Reykjavík? So what if there’s no word for “please” in the Icelandic language? You get my point – they’re a bit different and not as bound by rules as other European countries. Iceland also consistently tops world rankings as the best place for women and children to live, has low cost university education and prisons that try to rehabilitate people rather than just locking them up. The bookstores tend to have longer opening hours than anything else, which says a lot about a place.

2. Exciting nature and wildlife.  Yes, you have to like nature if you go to Iceland as there’s not a lot else there. But within a small area you can see volcanoes, waterfalls, a geyser, boiling hot mud bubbling out of the earth and glaciers. You can get as close to it as you want to so there’s all kinds of accidents waiting to happen! The Blue Lagoon aside, there are natural hot springs everywhere. And there’s Northern Lights! What more do you want?

Arctic fox

A glacier beach

Is this a rock or a troll? Any guesses?

Iceland has tons of beautiful waterfalls.

 

At the right time of year Iceland is a great place for whale watching (sightings practically guaranteed in Husavík), seeing huge colonies of puffins and if you’re lucky an arctic fox. Even the domestic animals are quite interesting – the horse has its own unique gait (the tölt), and we had to pull over to take a picture of some cows as they were so pretty (and no, we weren’t the only ones, someone else had done it first).

3. Creepiness. Iceland is creepy beyond belief if you have a good imagination and like being scared. Most of the towns are really only one street with a few houses and the mountains you see by day turn into big looming shapes next to the road on a dark night. Leave Reykjavík and you can feel really isolated,  as you can usually see for miles around you and there are no other people or buildings or well, anything. Trolls and elves are still talked about as a part of life. You can see elf houses in the countryside (insert elf door image) and in fact building projects are sometimes stopped or planned around areas where elves live.

Elf door!

The popular Icelandic author Arnaldur Indriðason’s mystery books definitely have a dark side, and even some of the popular TV comedies such as Næturvaktin manage to convey a real sense of sadness and bleakness while still being funny.

4. It’s expensive but also cheap. Bear with me here. Yes, it’s expensive and this is a reason you should go – it keeps away all the stag parties. It’s not the place to come to buy a whole new wardrobe or lots of beer on a night out. There is a Scandinavian mindset that it is worth paying more for things that will last and are of good quality. This is pretty much at odds with the more common mentality  that you want to buy things as cheaply as possible because then you can buy more of them and then just throw them away. Iceland doesn’t “do” mass production so although you might pay a lot for a traditional Icelandic sweater, if you have bought it in the right place it will have been hand knitted and it will last forever. (I won’t go into the recent controversies about lava jewellery being sold using lava not from Iceland, and some of the sweaters being made in China!)

Knitter’s paradise!

It’s also cheap. You might spend a fortune on food, petrol and everything else you have to buy but all of the scenery that you would pay an admission fee to see anywhere else is free. The countryside is generally free of people and you will often find yourself the only ones at something really spectacular, which is pretty priceless.

5. Unique food and drink. Yes, I know you’re probably thinking of rotten shark and all the other “weird” things they love to show on TV. And yes, you can eat puffin and minke whale, although this is really just for tourists and you won’t find them on the menu in most places. Iceland is a fish lovers paradise and traditionally food has pretty much centred around fish and lamb. Now, Icelanders are getting fatter as junk food has taken over the country. But I ask you, where else can you get pizzas with toppings like peanuts and bananas? Or my personal favourite, a 4 cheese pizza with a side order of jam? Really great hot dogs? And don’t even get me started on the chocolate liquorice. Junk food aside, you can also get really tasty meals that taste like home-cooking even at service stations – we had some surprisingly good lasagne with potato gratin.

Cream cheese pizza

Given that Icelanders love to stay up late and eat junk food, it is perhaps fitting that their biggest superhero Sportacus from Lazytown advocates a healthy lifestyle rather than having any kind of magical powers.

Sportacus from Lazy Town

Something tourists are often initially alarmed about is that the water in their hotel room smells bad – this is sulphur and in fact Icelandic water is amongst the purest in the world. Geothermal heating also means it’s cheap and even in the most basic accommodation limitless hot water is a luxury you can count on.

So what’s all this I said at the beginning about too many tourists? This is a topic that comes and goes in the Icelandic news as more and more tourists visit, and Iceland has become dependent on those tourists since the financial crash.

Some of the more popular natural sights are feeling the strain. This is a debate that will continue for the foreseeable future, although I suspect Iceland’s current reputation as “trendy” and being put at the top of many travel companies “best place to go” lists won’t last. If you do go and visit Iceland, you won’t be disappointed. Come on over to my blog if you’d like to read more!

About the Blogger:

My name is Eva and I’ve been visiting Iceland since 2005. Some day I would love to have a second home there, but I may need to win the lottery first. I was initially hooked on Iceland’s nature and then started discovering the music, books, knitting and many quirks that make Iceland a really interesting society. I also love running and watching trashy reality shows. I’ve been blogging for nearly a year now and have been surprised to find how much I love reading other people’s blogs, which continually inspire me.

 

I’m kind of a big deal.

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Today, I technically have nothing for you to read on my blog. Howevs, I WAS asked by Ashley of Ashley, Etc. to write a guest post! This means that I have arrived, as people are actually asking me to write for them. It’s only a matter of time before JK Rowling asks me to write a guest book for her too.

Ashley is my blogging buddy, so I wrote about the beauty of online relationships. Please check it out. Oh! And subscribe to Ashley’s blog while you’re at it if you don’t already read it. You will be glad you did.

Click here to read it.

Happy Wednesday!