(Nah. Has nothing to do with the post or writing. Just thought I'd share. See? Miracles CAN happen...)Many, many summers ago my little brother had stood before me, a huge grin on his face. His nose, though, was misshapen and red. For the second time in one week, the little doofus had shoved a rock up his nostril while on my watch.
I didn’t know why he had to wait until I was babysitting to do these things. But I did know my parents were going to kill me.
My brother had a habit of repeating stupid mistakes. Even at three years old. You’d think he would have learned the first time, when we had to hold him down and do some serious excavating with my mom’s best tweezers.
You’d think.
But a week later he was back in the yard, snorting stones. This time necessitating a trip to the ER.
You should have seen the look on the doctor’s face when he heard this was standard procedure for my brother. Or the look on my mom’s face, when the doctor slipped her the psychotherapist’s business card.
He used to bury his little plastic army men, too. And then cry when he couldn’t find him. But then the next day he’d be back outside, using one of the spoons he’d lifted from the kitchen drawer, plunging some poor soldier head down into the dirt.
Recently, my parents had the front yard dug up and a new walkway put in. It was like the unearthing of a military graveyard. No sooner had they begun to dig than tiny plastic bodies began surfacing. What was fascinating was my son, who went into the kitchen, lifted a spoon, and started to rebury the poor things in another part of the yard.
Which led me to think there’s a family propensity for this repetition of stupidness. My brother is just an exaggerated example of it, I suppose. While I never shoved a rock up my schnoz, it’s taken me a while to learn some stuff. Especially the hard way. So yes, there’s probably some propensity going on.
I’m working to avoid this in my writing–trying to keep my hands off the pebbles to speak. By my own definition, stupidity is doing something over and over expecting a different result each time. For someone with a built-in propensity to be stupid (ah, that would be me,) there are a lot of ways to go really wrong in the writing universe.
There's been much discussion on the writing forums lately about making dumb moves. From formatting your manuscripts incorrectly (and I don't care who says what, put the damn asterisks away), to submitting to the wrong markets, and even submitting work that should never have been shown the light of day--there are a bunch of ways a writer can be flat-out stupid.
I figure if I learn as much as I can from others, letting them stumble first, I could save myself a lot of mistakes. I’m also trying to learn everything I can about good writing. And when I fail to meet that level. Every no an editor sends me is one more opportunity to figure out what not to do and how to do it right next time. All I have to do is not be stupid and shove anything up my nose.
I just wish they would send a few less no’s...
:)
Chocolate Consumed Today
Exactly 26 frozen peanut m&m's. We're out of almond. I know. I asked hubby if he was trying to kill me or something. And btw, to please bring me home some almond ones. Last week, in vacay-prep, he brought home Dove chocolate covered almonds. Good. But not the same.
Anyway. I avoided all the yellow ones. I don't know why, I was bored and it was something to do.
What I Wrote Today
This. And I worked on my owl story for the Zoetrope contest. What a little icky story it is. sigh...
My brother had a habit of repeating stupid mistakes. Even at three years old. You’d think he would have learned the first time, when we had to hold him down and do some serious excavating with my mom’s best tweezers.
You’d think.
But a week later he was back in the yard, snorting stones. This time necessitating a trip to the ER.
You should have seen the look on the doctor’s face when he heard this was standard procedure for my brother. Or the look on my mom’s face, when the doctor slipped her the psychotherapist’s business card.
He used to bury his little plastic army men, too. And then cry when he couldn’t find him. But then the next day he’d be back outside, using one of the spoons he’d lifted from the kitchen drawer, plunging some poor soldier head down into the dirt.
Recently, my parents had the front yard dug up and a new walkway put in. It was like the unearthing of a military graveyard. No sooner had they begun to dig than tiny plastic bodies began surfacing. What was fascinating was my son, who went into the kitchen, lifted a spoon, and started to rebury the poor things in another part of the yard.
Which led me to think there’s a family propensity for this repetition of stupidness. My brother is just an exaggerated example of it, I suppose. While I never shoved a rock up my schnoz, it’s taken me a while to learn some stuff. Especially the hard way. So yes, there’s probably some propensity going on.
I’m working to avoid this in my writing–trying to keep my hands off the pebbles to speak. By my own definition, stupidity is doing something over and over expecting a different result each time. For someone with a built-in propensity to be stupid (ah, that would be me,) there are a lot of ways to go really wrong in the writing universe.
There's been much discussion on the writing forums lately about making dumb moves. From formatting your manuscripts incorrectly (and I don't care who says what, put the damn asterisks away), to submitting to the wrong markets, and even submitting work that should never have been shown the light of day--there are a bunch of ways a writer can be flat-out stupid.
I figure if I learn as much as I can from others, letting them stumble first, I could save myself a lot of mistakes. I’m also trying to learn everything I can about good writing. And when I fail to meet that level. Every no an editor sends me is one more opportunity to figure out what not to do and how to do it right next time. All I have to do is not be stupid and shove anything up my nose.
I just wish they would send a few less no’s...
:)
Chocolate Consumed Today
Exactly 26 frozen peanut m&m's. We're out of almond. I know. I asked hubby if he was trying to kill me or something. And btw, to please bring me home some almond ones. Last week, in vacay-prep, he brought home Dove chocolate covered almonds. Good. But not the same.
Anyway. I avoided all the yellow ones. I don't know why, I was bored and it was something to do.
What I Wrote Today
This. And I worked on my owl story for the Zoetrope contest. What a little icky story it is. sigh...
Now I am going to work on my novel. I have a wedding to write, where the best man is dressed as Cher and the ring bearer is a stuffed cat. I would go do vacay stuff, but I am stuck in this room in the midst of a downpour. sigh again...
What I Read Today
HOW TO TELL A STORY by Peter Rubie and Gary Provost. It's a little scary, all that talk of motivation. I don't know my scene's motivation. I don't know my characters' motivation.
And I'm not sure I care.
(Maybe I should go back and eat the yellow ones now...hmm...)
Days Until Facing My Scary Neighbor's PJ's at the Bus Stop
Okay. I'm not sure what the date is. So subtract that from 30. But what I wish to discuss, and feel is far more relevant, is their mailbox.
Someone took a bat to their mailbox--which is on our side of the street. And no. It wasn't me. Or anyone I paid. Anyway, whoever did it crushed the side and managed to dislodge it from the post. It fell, mangled, onto the ground.
My neighbors found it the next morning and picked it up off the ground and put it back on its wooden stand. The mail lady came along, opened it, put in the mail, closed it, and threw it back on the ground.
This has been going on for a week now. It's actually kind of fascinating.
Quote of the Day
Kevin the Camp Counselor: Hi. I'm Kevin.
My Son: You have a funny accent.
Kevin the Camp Counselor: That's because I'm from Scotland.
My Son: Wow. So how do you say Kevin in Scottish?
Kevin the Camp Counselor: Kevin.
A Shout Out to Maria, the Mighty Pit Boss
Maria, editor at Writer's Digest is adding to her blogroll. She's looking for great writers' blogs. And make sure to check her blog out, too. Esp the post on the "f" word. Loveeeeee that one.
http://www.writersdigest.com/writersperspective
Since Wiping the Literary Slate Clean in March
Um. Okay. See the thing is, I'm on vacay. So not much written. Nothing submitted. And all's quiet on the rejection front. As well as the acceptance front...sniff...so there's still nothing to report...sniff...
What I Read Today
HOW TO TELL A STORY by Peter Rubie and Gary Provost. It's a little scary, all that talk of motivation. I don't know my scene's motivation. I don't know my characters' motivation.
And I'm not sure I care.
(Maybe I should go back and eat the yellow ones now...hmm...)
Days Until Facing My Scary Neighbor's PJ's at the Bus Stop
Okay. I'm not sure what the date is. So subtract that from 30. But what I wish to discuss, and feel is far more relevant, is their mailbox.
Someone took a bat to their mailbox--which is on our side of the street. And no. It wasn't me. Or anyone I paid. Anyway, whoever did it crushed the side and managed to dislodge it from the post. It fell, mangled, onto the ground.
My neighbors found it the next morning and picked it up off the ground and put it back on its wooden stand. The mail lady came along, opened it, put in the mail, closed it, and threw it back on the ground.
This has been going on for a week now. It's actually kind of fascinating.
Quote of the Day
Kevin the Camp Counselor: Hi. I'm Kevin.
My Son: You have a funny accent.
Kevin the Camp Counselor: That's because I'm from Scotland.
My Son: Wow. So how do you say Kevin in Scottish?
Kevin the Camp Counselor: Kevin.
A Shout Out to Maria, the Mighty Pit Boss
Maria, editor at Writer's Digest is adding to her blogroll. She's looking for great writers' blogs. And make sure to check her blog out, too. Esp the post on the "f" word. Loveeeeee that one.
http://www.writersdigest.com/writersperspective
Since Wiping the Literary Slate Clean in March
Um. Okay. See the thing is, I'm on vacay. So not much written. Nothing submitted. And all's quiet on the rejection front. As well as the acceptance front...sniff...so there's still nothing to report...sniff...
Going now to get yellow m&m's...sniff...
Cool Writing Site
William Shunn --How to format a short story
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