Monday, April 13, 2020

I REALLY DO MISS THE ORIGINAL THEMESTREAM.COM




I can’t believe how many thousands of websites have gone belly up since the whole craze started many centuries ago (or so it seems). A lot of my favorites have disappeared and I really miss them. But one of the sites I miss the most was called Themestream.com.

When a writer-friend of mine, Don, first told me about it nearly 20 years ago, it sounded like a dream come true. Basically, it was a site where people could publish their stories, poems, articles, jokes, opinions, photographs, etc. and actually get paid for doing so.

I signed up immediately and was pleased to become an official “Themestream contributor.”  Then every week, I faithfully submitted my humor column, A Slice of Life. 

At the time, Themestream was paying 10 cents per view. That meant every time someone clicked on my column, I became 10 cents richer. At first, it didn’t sound like all that much, but when one veteran Themestream contributor boasted that he’d had one of his articles mentioned on the Oprah Winfrey show and ended up getting over 4,000 clicks in one day, I quickly became gung-ho.

In fact, I became SO gung-ho, I sat right down and e-mailed friends, relatives, casual acquaintances and even total strangers, and begged them to read my column. As I sent each e-mail (and I’m ashamed to admit this), visions of myself swan-diving into a swimming pool filled with dimes kept popping into my head.

It’s funny how something as small as a dime can lead to greed, graft, corruption and deviousness. OK, so maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but there were a few Themestream contributors who used some pretty underhanded methods to earn their dimes.

You see, Themestream welcomed any and all writers, and didn’t edit their contributions, no matter how rotten they were.  So it wasn’t long before articles with such enticing titles as: “Guess Which Famous Actress Used to be a Man,” or “Want to See What Body Part I Pierced?” began to pop up. Readers, eager to find out more information, clicked onto these articles, only to find three or four hastily written paragraphs about something totally unrelated. By the time they realized they’d been duped, it was too late. Their clicks already had earned dimes for the authors.

Disgruntled readers could retaliate, however, by leaving comments underneath each article or by using Themestream’s rating system of 0-4 stars. The 4-star authors were supposed to be the cream of the crop; the Stephen Kings and John Grishams of Themestream.  Oddly enough, just about every author on Themestream eventually wound up with four stars…even the guy whose series of articles was called, “The America You Never Seen.”  Obviously, he wasn’t an English major.

As I watched the numbers on my “dimes earned” page begin to climb, I couldn’t help but wonder where Themestream was going to get the money to pay all of us. I mean, as far as I could calculate, there were over 500,000 articles on the site, with more pouring in every day. How, I wondered, could Themestream make a profit by doling out dimes to a bunch of writers and wanna-be writers?  And how were we expected to generate income for the website?  I mean, they weren’t asking us to solicit advertising for them or anything. It didn’t make any sense at all. 

Nevertheless, I continued to write.

As I mentioned before, it was pretty amazing what some people would do for a few dimes. There were some writers who used several different e-mail aliases so they could comment on and rate their own articles (which, now that I think about it, is probably the reason why there were so many 4-star authors). They also used their aliases to click on their own articles to earn more dimes.

Others used a more sneaky approach. I can’t tell you how many e-mails I received that said, “I’m a fellow Themestreamer who just read every one of your columns and I think you are the best writer I have ever read!  Could you do me a big favor and read some of my articles and give me your expert advice?  I would be honored!”

When I first received one of those letters, I was flattered. Then I learned that the same letter had been sent to about 100 other Themestream authors. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out the senders didn’t really want “expert” advice. They just wanted more clicks to earn more dimes.

And speaking of advice, I used to laugh at some of the comments readers would leave the authors of really awful articles. For example: “This brought tears to my eyes when I read it…for all of the wrong reasons,” or “You have a very, um…unique way of expressing your views.”  And my favorite: “This was excellent!  And I’m sure it will be even better when the spell-check on your computer is working again!”

Just when I was beginning to rake in a decent number of dimes per day (enough to buy a Whopper at Burger King), Themestream notified us that the rate of payment was being dropped to only two cents per view.  Talk about drastic. A nickel would have been bad enough, but two cents was just a fraction better than a “penny for your thoughts.”  I figured I was going to need a few thousand of those thoughts per day to make writing my columns worth my time and energy.

To compensate for the cut in pay, many of the authors figured they just would contribute more articles. That’s when Themestream decided to limit the number of articles each author could contribute. And even worse, a cap was put on the amount of money an article could earn. Things were not looking good.

During the time I wrote for Themestream, I also became interested in reading a lot of the other articles on the site. Some nights, I would spend hours just reading one after another, into the wee hours of the morning. Several of the articles were enticingly written in “to-be-continued” weekly installments, and I became hooked. 

For example, one woman named Lisa wrote about all the men she had met through dating sites…in explicit detail. In one installment, she described her nervousness about her impending trip to New York City to meet for the first time, a supposedly very rich, much-older man who was paying all of her expenses and putting her up in a fancy hotel suite. Would he, she wondered, demand any “favors” in return?

 I couldn’t wait to read what happened!

Before Lisa was able to write her next installment, however, the Themestream editors dropped the bomb and informed us that due to financial problems, Themestream was closing its doors forever, effective immediately. They also told us not to expect to be paid the money they owed us.

I honestly can’t say I was surprised.

But I was, and still am devastated…not because of all the hard-earned dimes and pennies I never will see; or even the missed opportunity to be discovered by Oprah…but because I never was able to find out how Lisa’s trip to New York to meet her "Mr. Sugar Daddy" turned out.


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Sally Breslin is an award-winning humor columnist and the author of “There’s a Tick in my Underwear!” “Heed the Predictor” and “The Common-Sense Approach to Dream Interpretation." Contact her at: sillysally@att.net.














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