Well, now. Not really. I'm a bit wary of free websites and the advice therein. Whether it's that thing on my leg that might have been a spider bite (it wasn't) or that chapter in the middle of the book that felt soggy (I rewrote it), it doesn't feel sensible to prise open the maw at the top of the pit of clattering madness and pitch myself in.
And as for sites behind a paywall . . . hmmmmmm. If someone is trying to make money selling writing advice, chances are s/he can't rely on writing itself for an income. And then we're in the territory of whether to trust a dentist with blood in his hair, aren't we?
I think the internet is great for bold-stroke tips that help with low-stakes problems. Getting the seeds out of a pomegranate, folding a fitted sheet, packing a carry-on bag with clothes for a month . . . that kind of thing. But, as a rule, the more certain someone sounds about writing advice the less safe it is to listen. (I sound quite sure about that, eh? Which means you should ignore me. Only now I sound less sure, so it would make a good forehead tattoo. Argh.)
Seriously, though, whenever I find myself teaching a writing class I kick off by saying if everything is going well people should ignore me and scroll through their texts until break-time. But if they're having a problem, then they could maybe listen and then only if what I'm saying seems sensible and/or fun they could maybe give it a whirl. I'm surprised no one's ever asked for a refund, to be honest with you.
There are exceptions around the fringes of actual writing. When I was starting out, looking for an agent, the internet was in its infancy. (Bottle of Evian? Eeh, we didn't have water when I were a nipper. We had hydrogen and oxygen and we made our own.) But these days, you can't do better than Janet Reid's Query Shark, if you're at that stage of the game.
It's not the bit of your brain that you use for compiling or consuming tip-lists for fitted sheets and pomegranates. How could it be?
And also, this: