Fighting The Man, banana rot, and toilet paper rolls
I learned a valuable lesson this week: if you like firm bananas (pretty much the only way I can eat them), don't keep them in your car. I guess they need to be at room temperature to stay relatively firm and not get all brown and mushy and gross. Ewww... so, be warned. Now you know, kids. And knowing, as we all heard from G.I. Joe back in the eighties, is half the battle. Though I'm not sure which battle we're talking about here, with firm vs. mushy bananas... some kind of strange fresh fruit battle. The battle of fresh produce?
Anyway. It's Thursday, which might be the worst day of the week. Almost the weekend, but not quite. None of that reckless abandon I feel on Fridays. I'm always happy on Friday. It's easy to come in to work happy when you know that you're about to have two days to spend however you want. But Thursdays suck... so close to the weekend that you want to let go and be the free-as-a-bird spirit you are on Fridays, but you can't. There are still Important Things To Do. This evening I have to go to Lyman and help my mom paint... yippee.
The writers' meeting went well last night. I've been trying to have something to be critiqued each meeting. So far, it's gone well. I've had two new pieces, and I've brought four older pieces to be updated and reviewed. They like my stuff. Pretty soon I'm going to be ready to start sending this stuff out to places to get published... I just need to find my Writers' Market and get things together on my computer so I can print a bunch of stuff out. (Wow, that was a serious overuse of the word "stuff", now wasn't it?) It's not the easiest thing in the world, sending out manuscripts, but I'm going to do it. I AM. I've got to take the plunge sometime. Maybe I'll get lucky and actually get PAID for my work. Who knows?
It's always been my dream to be a professional writer - someone who pays the bills with the money they make doing exactly what they love, which in my case is making up stories. I know that the real money is in novels, but you have to start small before you can tackle the world. Besides, unless you have several published credits, a publisher, agent or editor won't even give you the time of day. So you have to work your way up, publishing short stories in magazines and so on, to work up your credentials. THEN you write a novel and send it off and get paid a bunch of money and retire from your 8-5 corporate america slobjob and say FUCK YOU to The Man and move into your home office permanently and sleep until ten and get up and make up stories all day to pay the bills. Only then. (And to be quite honest, that doesn't happen very often, even for amazingly good writers, but this is my little fantasy, so screw reality at the moment, right?) So, anyway, I guess I better start sending stuff out, huh?
I haven't mentioned Max lately. He's good, though he has decided that toilet paper rolls may be the ultimate evil in the universe, and his mission in life is to destroy each one he finds to the best of his ability, through means of tooth and claw, and when his adversary is defeated, he is to strew the leavings of the toilet paper roll's corpse throughout the house to celebrate his victory.