If I made it sound like I was going to Maine this June, let me put an end to the rumors. I will be here in Southern California, getting high from blowing up the elephant pool. Telling myself I'm giving up Diet Coke. Then crashing head first into the pool when I inevitably fall off the wagon. Wash, rinse, repeat.
I was, however, tickled for the offer. And should I make a fortune between now and June, I'll post pictures of me having a panic attack on the tarmac right before my plane takes off.
Today I managed to write what I thought was a damn good query for WestWays Magazine. Yeah! My writing group, however, thought differently. Boo!
I suppose I should be happy that I have a group of such talented women to edit my crap before I send it out, but sometimes the ego side wants to hear "Wow, that was just brilliant! It's amazing you haven't been published yet!" Of course, with my lack of responses from any editors other than Child thus far, I'm thinking that my queries are looking more like "mazes" than "amazing" and it's time to make them shine - because what's the point of being a good writer if I can't convey that in a single page? It's just so different than tv. It is so.... slow. Waa waaaaaah waaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh! Okay, done.
My book project is moving along. I have no idea how to sell it, but given I have no idea what I'm doing in most aspects of my life these days, I'm simply going to keep going.
On another note, I finally finished cleaning out my closet upstairs, so I'm almost ready to start the fun process of organizing pictures. It's such a shame that I have all these great shots, but no frames for them. With a fresh space to work with, I'm hoping to be more inspired to have some fun.
I'm realizing that the combination of motherhood and writing queries both lend itself to similar outcomes: incredible joy, but mainly a crapload of work for a few moments of peace. It's all good, but this is why my little closet project means so much to me. The ability to get instant gratification from a photograph without having to ask anyone's permission first. The same can be said for Ebaying (though even Ebay has the element of something not selling.)
Perhaps I should give up all dreams that might not happen and go to work at Hotdog on a Stick. The uniform says "I"m Colorful! I'm wacky! I like to have fun despite how retarded I look!" And I can have a whole litany of fun jokes. "What kind of weiner do you like?" "How long do you like your sausage?" "Does it bother you that this one has a hook in it or do you need it straight?"
What are the things that bring you joy - no questions asked?