There's probably thousands of interesting stories on how people discovered this website. To many, maybe a friend, or saw it on Facebook. I don't know, because I came here in the oddest way I've ever visited a website.
I was in town. I like to write outside, and my phone is (currently) my only writing device, so writing on a keyboard to a small phone does attract some curiosity. I listen to music too, and I do prefer to have time to focus on my own thing. So I was sitting outside the library against a tree, headphones on, about to light a smoke. Something catches my eye; someone approaches. An older man, maybe in his late thirties to forties. He looked maybe either homeless or like a traveler. Guitar case, a few big bags.
"Hey there," he says, "I'm from the future, and I'd like to do something to help you out today."
I tilted my head to the side, about to politely ask him to be on his way, but he recovers quickly enough. "What are you working on?" he asks. "Is that hacking or something?"
I explained - abruptly, as I still didn't trust him - that I am a writer. My music's still playing with my headphones around my neck, but I'm too curious to move. A little scared, too.
And so he tells me about this site. The sheer basics, minds you. The name of the site, what it does, how I can literally make money off it. I didn't really believe him, but nodded politely. If it was true, it would be an amazing thing, surely. What harm would it be if it didn't work?
He went on to say he'd be pissed if i used my riches to end up on some yacht sipping expensive drinks. I assured him I wouldn't; I just want to further my career. I want people to read my stories. I need to reach people. So then he asks me my name. I told him, but he asked for my last name, too. Told him that. He nods, repeats it, and says, "I'll remember that." He walks away. I was somewhere between frozen still and wanting to check out this site.
Literally ten seconds later, another guy walks up, asks me for a smoke. Comments on my keyboard. Over all, it takes like five, ten seconds. Look up again, and the traveling man's gone. The road was pretty open in the direction he went. I felt like I should have seen him still walking, but there wasn't a trace. I had to think: was his first impression true? I might never actually find out, but damn, it makes a good story. Go figure, I find out he's right about this site. I came home and started transferring some of my stuff to Word documents (thought I could just upload them, but oh well) and I posted my first stuff.
What have I got to lose?
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