Your Twitter followers will burgeon to triple digits today. Don’t let it go to your head. A missed typo in your tweet about an ‘affinity for smooth jazz and the dulcet tones of the sax’ lured 75 degenerates with no interest whatsoever in your novel. Edit carefully.
I had just opened the book Writing for Story, by Jon Franklin, and began reading one of his highly-acclaimed stories, entitled Mrs. Kelly’s Monster, that detailed surgical procedures to relieve a patient of almost four decades of suffering from a malformation of blood vessels in the back of her brain.
And I thought…36 years of agony, all the while partnering with her husband to raise a family.
And I thought…and here I am whimpering and simpering about Facebook’s cluelessness about member requests that vaporize.
You have two problems. That stratified clutter pile is calling your name. And you haven’t finished your chapter. Seismic activity will solve the first problem. For that matter, the second one, as well. Pay close attention to plot twists during your evacuation.
If you follow the above link, that’s pretty much me [well, minus the cardigan…and the collared shirt…and, well, he at least remembered to shave…okay, so he and I share the same ‘pose of cluelessness’.]
But now, thanks to these Care2 writers, I have some fallback versions of ‘my reality’:
“Yes, I forgot my pants again, but I’ve been busy adapting to new experiences.”
“Sure, I realize now the steaks are fossilized, but at least I’m working on my efficiency.”
“I know I left the car running overnight, but my decision to have both chocolate and vanilla ice cream was spot-on!”
“Dear! Check out my new use for the weedwhacker! This thinking-induced forgetfulness is really paying off!”