Using Stories And Creative Writing To Sell/Promote/Add Diversity To A Site

*****Note: Everything written here is being used online and they are real examples that you cannot copy.

I am new here, and I have been reading a bit. Just wanted to share something I did for a "review" site that I had until I sold it recently, that was not exactly reviews. What I did is take someone's idea/product/news worthy piece that could gain me a visitor or two and wrote a story for it.

For example, a product was specificially for socks that help strengthen ankles. I decided to write a short murder mystery that surrounded ankle health and a gait that ended up identifying the murderer.

Another example would be a specialty drink that I decided to write a short romance wrapped around this drink.

In some cases, the owners of such product would find it and purchase it from me, and I would then pass all copyrights and place a "used with permission/copyright so and so" under the story.

Now, furthering that, Got milk was a hit. So with that in mind, using PowToon (or whatever is preferred, because whiteboard works too) create a small mini web series to turn the story into something someone can watch.

Of course this means you don't want the watermark there, so the $20 a month, plus some voice over work from fiverr is what I would use.

Here is an example of forensic podiatry and socks (this is just the beginning of the story):

MURDER WITH A GAIT
"Here are your eggs detective," the waitress said while placing the plate next to my coffee.
In all actuality, another person wouldn't be eating after walking through a crime scene. I just left the Charleston home six blocks from here where a burglar broke in and murdered the seventeen year old son of our high school's head coach Richard Charleston. From the scene it looks like the perpetrator broke in and while trying to make off with the family jewels upstairs, the boy entered and tried to stop him. The attempt failed, fatally.
That aside, I have been to more than my share of crime scenes, and one more isn't going to end a good meal for me.
"Thank you darling," I said, picking up my fork. I thought about that crime scene. No fingerprints anywhere so it didn't look like an amateur break in from one of the high school kids. We had a few of those and we drug them out in the middle of town in broad daylight and had them clean up the most popular shopping center with "I'm a thief, lock your car" shirts on for a week. It didn't seem like anyone was willing to wear those shirts again, so I didn't think to see another burglary.
We did have one piece of evidence that stood out. The killer walked through the mud on the way out, though I doubt that someone would then leave the mud so we could simply pick them out of a line up later. I never had that much luck. What that does mean for us is that we could call in the podiatrist to help with forensics. She is from the town over and she could light a candle just by looking at it. Forensic podiatry is new around here, so any criminal in this area wouldn't know the first thing about covering up their tracks to avoid someone finding out how they walk or if they sprained their ankle on the way out of the house they just burglarized.
My phone rings as I take drink of coffee.
"Well if it isn't the finest wine calling me in the middle of the night." I say grabbing a napkin.
"Hey detective, I have a profile for you if you need it," the podiatrist says. "Apparently this guy, and I say guy unless we are talking about a woman with size 12 in men's shoes, has a gait."
"A gait?" I ask. "Like what kind of gait are we talking about here?"
"Like a really funny way of walking kind of Gait." She clarifies.
"Alright, that is a good start." I say looking at the door. Just then a stranger walked in the door. "You know, I think someone with a funny walk just stepped in the diner. Doesn't look like he is from around here either. I will call you back after I talk to him."
"Excuse me," I start. "You ever been to a podiatrist for that ankle problem you have there?"


Or one that is for an eggs and milk drink:

"Oh no Caterina," exclaimed Alessandra. "I cannot get back up."
Caterina looked down the hole that Alessandra had fallen into. Caterina knew that Alessandra was just a little girl of 10 and that was a very deep and winding hole. Caterina was too big to fit in the hole, let alone get one hoof inside there because she was a cow. Everyone knows not to go playing in the small wood, and Caterina was trying to stop Alessandra from going there. Now what was she going to do?
"Please go get help Caterina," Yelled Alessandra. "Lead them here."
Now Caterina didn't know what to do. She raced back to the farm as fast as her hooves could carry her. The gate was just up ahead and she looked beyond to see if the farmer was there. Not seeing him she ran to the barn. No one was inside. She ran to the house. Looking in the backdoor she saw the farmer's wife and called to her. Of course the farmer's wife was used to hearing Caterina moo and didn't pay any attention.
"Please go away Caterina," the farmer's wife said. "I have to prepare the eggs and milk for Zabalette, it makes the children very strong."
The farmer came out of the house and was walking to the barn when Caterina pounded up beside him and called to him. Not to be bothered by the cow, the farmer went inside the barn and closed the door. Now Caterina was becoming more excited and beating on the barn wall, but the farmer had already started working on the tractor and the noise was too loud.
Worried beyond worry, Caterina started crying. It isn't every day you see a cow cry, and when Nicolo saw this he became very concerned. Nicolo walked over to the cow.
"What's wrong Caterina?" Nicolo asked.
"Oh hello mister chick, Alessandra fell down a hole and I can't get anyone to help." Caterina wailed.
"Then we will have to get her out ourselves."
"But what are we to do, I can't fit down the hole, and you are not strong enough to get her out."
"We will have to go look and see."
So the cow and the chick went back to the small wood, and to the hole that Alessandra had fallen in.
"Well that is a deep hole. We may need to get a rope." Said Nicolo.
"But who is going to pull the rope?" Asked Caterina.
"Why you are, and I am going to bring it down to her." Nicolo responded and away he bounded.
A few minutes later he came back with a rope and started tying it around one of Caterina's back legs.
"You are strong enough to pull her out of the hole, which is what milk does for us, it makes us strong." Noted Nicolo.
"Well, I do produce all natural and healthy milk." Caterina said proudly.
"And I came from an egg, why do you think chicks are so nimble and quick?"
"That sure is right. Are you going to take the rope down now?" Caterina inquired.
"Of course." And with that he went down the hole.
A few minutes later he called up, "She is ready."
Caterina started pulling on the rope, walking towards the farm. Up and out of the hole came Alessandra, dirty but unharmed.
"Oh thank you Nicolo and Caterina, I wouldn't have wanted to spend the night down there." Alessandra said cleaning off her skirt. "Let's go home and get some Zabelette, I am so thirsty."
Caterina looked over her shoulder at the chick who hopped on her back, "So your name is Nicolo right?"
"Yes, and I am very pleased to meet you," he said.
The three walked home happily.

Or crowdfunding superhero:

In the lobby of a rundown apartment building a gathering of people from the neighborhood comes to order. Chairs sit in rows like pews in a church filled with people ranging from young to old, all eyes in the room face forward. Some hold coffee cups with strong, effective, yet awful tasting brew sloshing around waiting to help keep these folks awake and alert. This meeting is important to them, a meeting they have been waiting for since the beginning of the month.
"It is with regret that I tell you the city has once again turned down our proposal to make our humble neighborhood a historical piece of land," stated the head speaker in a solemn tone. The head speaker was tall and thin, looking as though his pale skin barely kept his bones from falling out of his body and leaving the man lying there on the ground. He wore an old pair of dress shoes, even older dress pants and shirt, and the gold chain of a pocket watch hung from his belt loop and ended in his front left pocket. His hair was silver and his eyes strikingly bright blue. He had look of an older man than he actually was.
Groans and harrumphs sounded within the gathering.
"What about our homes and our lives? Most of us were born and raised right here in this neighborhood," questioned one of the attendees. The man was of an older age, most likely in his fifties with greying hair and the hard face of a man who has seen his fair share of work and heartache. "I buried my wife not 3 blocks from here and I still go to see her every day."
"Are they still talking about condemning us up?" an older lady cried out. Chatter began to rise within the congregation, which the head speaker knew that he would need to quell immediately before the meeting got out of hand and before they started complaining instead of focusing on the problem at hand.
"Yes," the head speaker stated firmly with a louder voice to shut down ramblings. "They are saying that our neighborhood, and two neighborhoods around us have become run down enough to be called un-livable. That means that any time they can come in and take us all out of our homes and leave us in the street."
He pounded his hand on the makeshift podium.
"But that doesn't mean we can't stop it," he said with force. "If we can come up with a way to transform our neighborhood to its former glory, not only can they not condemn it, but they will also decree our neighborhood a historical landmark and it can never be torn down or run over by self-serving corporations who want to make every corner a soul eating money maker."
"How do we do that?" yelled an anonymous voice.
"At first we didn't know. But the head committee in our community has worked it all out and has a plan. But that plan needs to be funded, and fast. If we can provide evidence, and the funding to carry out such evidence, by the end of the next 45 days, our neighborhood will be saved. But there is a downside. Most of us here are not by any means rich. As a matter of fact, I am looking at pensioners and kids without any income at all. That doesn't leave us with much, but it's a start. We need to come up with at least $250,000 in 45 days."
The gathering groaned when they heard such a high amount. Combined the gathering did not make that much money per year. A loud bang suddenly sounded in the back of the crowd.
"Whoa," the newcomer said with a smirk. "I didn't expect the door to just splinter like that. Uh...Sorry?"
"It's an old door, like my old bones these days. Don't fret over it, the roof is liable to come down soon as well," said the same old woman who spoke up earlier.
"Well, at least you have air conditioning now... not that you need it since it's the dead of winter," he said chuckling. The crowd was not amused, their faces scowling at the attempt at being funny.
"In any case," he said with his arms spread wide at the front of the room next to the head speaker. "I was just sauntering by and heard you guys need a bunch of money."
"Wait, what the heck? How did you get over there?" one of the younger attendees asked. He appeared both confused and amazed.
"Well, I figured I already made a pretty awkward entry, you didn't expect me to walk up here with all eyes staring at me did you?" he said as if appearing in another place without walking there was a perfectly normal occurrence.
"Before you say anything further," he continued. "My name is Buzz Arus and I am here to tell you that you can make the money you need within the time you need it with crowd funding."
"What is crowd funding," anonymous said again. Murmurs across the gathering ensued.
"Crowd funding is a newer method of getting the funds you need from people all over the world, starting with those closest to you. The best thing about it is that you do not need a few investors with a lot of money, but a lot of people with just a little bit of money, and there you go, you have your funds." Buzz said looking out to the gathering.
"I am here to help you start this off the right way, and I have my own resources that will not only help you, but give you more encouragement to help yourselves as well."
"What do we have to do, and how much is it going to cost us?" Ever the anonymous pessimist asked.
"It's easy really, I just need a contract signed in blood by everyone here." Buzz stated seriously holding up a blank piece of paper. "Does anyone here have a ceremonial knife?"
A gasp was heard as everyone looked confused. The head speaker stared with mouth open.
A smile broke across Buzz's face, "I am just joking. It doesn't cost you a penny to start. But don't think there isn't work involved. Your image, the first impression you give, is the most important, and then the real fun starts. But it will get you the funds you need."
"Bad joke," an old lady yelled.
"I'm sorry, you should have seen your faces. A Kodak moment if there ever was one." Buzz said chuckling. "In any case, you all have friends, family, and they have friends and family. That's the place I need you to start. I will get with the head speaker here and start your campaign right away, and everyone here needs to know that by tomorrow, you have work to do that will be explained."
The head speaker stepped up. "That said, let's adjourn and meet here tomorrow at 3pm to hear what follows. Have a good night everyone and don't leave the coffee cups here again. Unless you have a volunteer to be the maid."
The meeting adjourned and everyone started to get up to leave. Coffee cups were picked up and thrown in the trash while chairs were being folded and stacked against the wall.
"So just who are you?" the main speaker asked amidst all the noise.
"Just who I say I am," Buzz said. "I have exactly what you need to make the funds you need and save your neighborhood. What is your name by the way?"
"Jim Seedant," the head speaker said. "You want to go get some real coffee while we talk this over?"
"You bet, I could smell the bad coffee in here from the street. I am surprised people are still standing after drinking that." Buzz joked.
Jim and Buzz left by the back door.


In any case, I hope that I contributed to the warrior forum here with an idea that worked for me, and added a tid bit idea about creating a web series from them (which I have not done, but would be a good idea).