Let it snow...
...Except on a school day! I love the white stuff as much as the next New Englander, but snow that cancels school on a Monday just before Christmas when I am thisclose to finishing edits on my manuscript so I can send it off to the agent who asked for a full... Well, I can do without! The kids were excited to say the least to hear the holy grail of school days words, "snow day." But me...
Well, I warned you on my website that I am a complainer, and anything that keeps me from my writing is worth complaining about. Besides, my complaining pales in comparison to my kids, who've inherited the complaining gene with a vengeance. I think the gene mutated with them, creating uber-complainers, each word a satiric, sarcastic art form out of their precious mouths.
I promised to focus on my writing career in this blog... 'Blog' I don't like that term, makes me think of The Blob, that 50s horror movie with Steve McQueen, which scared the bejeezus out of me. Saw it at my elementary school when I was a kid as part of an after school program for 'latchkey' kids. Other movies--full-color, tinny sound from the AV room projectors--included Mysterious Island and a disturbingly sexy version (for a 9-year-old, anyway) of Dracula. The goal was probably to keep us out of trouble (and to keep me out of the Marshmallow Fluff—a ploy that failed miserably), but it only served to make me a paranoid wreck—and a huge movie fan. Go figure.
But I digress... My writing has been in edit mode lately, interspersed with holiday duties and the usual crap that keeps me from writing (does Stephen King—or any other male writer, for that matter—ever stop in the middle of strangling a character to go put the laundry in the dryer because his kids will have to go to school naked if he doesn’t? Just asking…). I haven’t gotten any rejections lately, which is a good thing for my ego/psyche, but bad because that means I don’t have enough queries out there. The ones that are out there are in agent limbo, sitting on someone’s desk, and I wonder if I’ll hear from them before the post office raises the price of stamps again, making my SASE obsolete.
Time to go whip a few snowballs at my complaining children (add a bit of spit to ice them up good and you've got the original WMDs). Happy Holidays & Merry Christmas.
Well, I warned you on my website that I am a complainer, and anything that keeps me from my writing is worth complaining about. Besides, my complaining pales in comparison to my kids, who've inherited the complaining gene with a vengeance. I think the gene mutated with them, creating uber-complainers, each word a satiric, sarcastic art form out of their precious mouths.
I promised to focus on my writing career in this blog... 'Blog' I don't like that term, makes me think of The Blob, that 50s horror movie with Steve McQueen, which scared the bejeezus out of me. Saw it at my elementary school when I was a kid as part of an after school program for 'latchkey' kids. Other movies--full-color, tinny sound from the AV room projectors--included Mysterious Island and a disturbingly sexy version (for a 9-year-old, anyway) of Dracula. The goal was probably to keep us out of trouble (and to keep me out of the Marshmallow Fluff—a ploy that failed miserably), but it only served to make me a paranoid wreck—and a huge movie fan. Go figure.
But I digress... My writing has been in edit mode lately, interspersed with holiday duties and the usual crap that keeps me from writing (does Stephen King—or any other male writer, for that matter—ever stop in the middle of strangling a character to go put the laundry in the dryer because his kids will have to go to school naked if he doesn’t? Just asking…). I haven’t gotten any rejections lately, which is a good thing for my ego/psyche, but bad because that means I don’t have enough queries out there. The ones that are out there are in agent limbo, sitting on someone’s desk, and I wonder if I’ll hear from them before the post office raises the price of stamps again, making my SASE obsolete.
Time to go whip a few snowballs at my complaining children (add a bit of spit to ice them up good and you've got the original WMDs). Happy Holidays & Merry Christmas.
posted by Janet at 10:20 AM
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