The past few weeks have been a bit of blur. I am so mentally exhausted that I have been sitting here trying to write something smart and witty for the past few minutes and all I've come up with is the revelation that my cat might be gay. I've also realized that the magazine I'm editing is full of errors and it's making me want to curl up into a ball and cry. So, I'm editing hopeful writers' work and trying to be nice about it but the truth is, if you cannot string together coherent sentences and spell them correctly, perhaps you should focus your energies on schooling yourself in the literary arts before trying to sell your work. Just an idea.
On a completely different note, I am almost finished my story for the sci-fi magazine who wants to publish it. That's exciting, except I'm too tired to fully appreciate what that means: I'm breaking into a competely new writing genre. New to me, anyway.
Although things are busy, I am fairly happy and content with the way things are going. My work is good, my job is great, the boy and I just celebrated our one-year anniversary last week and I don't really have any complaints. None that are valid anyway. I will always find something to complain about if I look hard enough.
Until next time, stay frosty and watch your back. Samsquanches are afoot.
1 comment:
You're writing a sci-fi story?!
Why don't you tell me thses things?
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