This year I’m getting a well-paying job, even if it starts at McDonalds, and I’m writing a book. I don’t care if motherfuckers don’t read anymore. I mean maybe you do. You’re reading this. I mean words on paper. That shit’s addictive. I read words on all types of paper. I even went and got a degree on reading words on paper. It’s called a MA in Lit. I liked it so much I went and learned how to edit. Now I’m going to go apply to McDonald’s.
You killed the written language and now you want news for free! Now all I got is a blog and all the words are free. Someone told me I was incompetent once. It was because I wasn’t reading. I excel at that. Somehow that doesn’t translate into work.
All this circles back to simply getting into the habit of writing. Meeting people who write is impossible if you aren’t being published. I mean really, anyone can string a sentence together. I listen to children tell stories about their ice cream cones.
I had a thought. I forgot it, but a buddy, who is a giant of marketers in Canadian book publishing, reads my stuff once in a while. I write it for giggles, half-finished pieces. Here’s the advice he gave to me. Get published, make friends with other writers, and get them to promote your work.
That’s all.
As this is a learning space for me, you might find it entertaining, I will chronicle this simple advice. I’ve begun writing a short piece of fiction for the Star writing contest. It has trees, snow, and a blizzard. It has isolation, Kitche Manitou, and it takes place in Cochrane. I don’t want to reveal more because it took a lot of thought to come up with this idea. I believe it’s unbelievably new.
I began writing a sci-fi piece, because after some research on short fiction submission I found that people are still reading and buying sci-fi. That’s actually pretty cool. I was obsessed with horror and sci-fi growing up. I had all those Books of Blood. Captain Nemo was a hero to me.
Someone asked me, don’t you need to know science to write science fiction? I don’t know. But it’s called fiction. I’m not gonna tell people how to break down atoms and make their own microwave. That’s how it works right, mini nuclear explosions in your kitchen?
I’m actually writing a sci-fi piece. It’s coloured by my traumatic life experience and some Goines, Iceberg Slim, Ed Lacy type of stuff.
When the aliens find our charred remains all that will be left are our computers full of useless blogs, porn, and baking recipes; also, probably a lot of pictures of cute animals, and more porn. They might say SDRAWASDFAFASTTUYIYUIJYK which means good riddance, the universe sure didn’t need them.
I’ve read three books of short fiction beginning this journey to writing. Better Living Through Plastic Explosives, The Umbrella Man, and Hot Water Music. This is no book review but Umbrella Man is definitely worth a read. Better Living was good. It suffered from all the praise heaped on it. I don’t know what I was expecting from it; I liked it once I actually got my hands on it though. Hot Water Music, seemed to resonate most with me.
That’s my problem with book reviews. I’m not impartial. I like what resonates most with me. Any book review I write will be that. Pawn Stars offered a succinct review of Henry David Thoreau’s Walden. “Sounds like hippie shit to me.”
See, that’s what happens when you stop reading.
There you have it. I was all crunched up with anxiety because of an interview and editorial test for a job this afternoon. I aced it. Here’s how, and you don’t have to send me money through Pay Pal. I’ll let you in on this little secret:
Hyperbole
-
I’m the best at this shit
-
If you don’t hire me your dumb
-
I got a PhD in universal knowledge.
I read this blog. It’s so funny I kinda peed. Honestly, this girl needs a man in her life and she’s got me rock, like piratinera guianensis.
I like this one too http://www.matadorofbananatown.com/
I took my friend’s advice and sent an email to J. Sawyer for some words of wisdom. Then I read his blog that asks wannabe writers not to do any of that. So I wrote an apology and said I have aspergers.
My bookmarks on delicious
Jeffdoesread 
A how to guide on properly presenting yourself in a job interview where editing and writing headers is also part of the job, and how to prove you are very grammatical and never stray from the topic, oh look the snow is so lovely outside what was i saying?
This year I’m getting a well-paying job, even if it starts at McDonalds, and I’m writing a book. I don’t care if motherfuckers don’t read anymore. I mean maybe you do. You’re reading this. I mean words on paper. That shit’s addictive. I read words on all types of paper. I even went and got a degree on reading words on paper. It’s called a MA in Lit. I liked it so much I went and learned how to edit. Now I’m going to go apply to McDonald’s.
You killed the written language and now you want news for free! Now all I got is a blog and all the words are free. Someone told me I was incompetent once. It was because I wasn’t reading. I excel at that. Somehow that doesn’t translate into work.
All this circles back to simply getting into the habit of writing. Meeting people who write is impossible if you aren’t being published. I mean really, anyone can string a sentence together. I listen to children tell stories about their ice cream cones.
I had a thought. I forgot it, but a buddy, who is a giant of marketers in Canadian book publishing, reads my stuff once in a while. I write it for giggles, half-finished pieces. Here’s the advice he gave to me. Get published, make friends with other writers, and get them to promote your work.
That’s all.
As this is a learning space for me, you might find it entertaining, I will chronicle this simple advice. I’ve begun writing a short piece of fiction for the Star writing contest. It has trees, snow, and a blizzard. It has isolation, Kitche Manitou, and it takes place in Cochrane. I don’t want to reveal more because it took a lot of thought to come up with this idea. I believe it’s unbelievably new.
I began writing a sci-fi piece, because after some research on short fiction submission I found that people are still reading and buying sci-fi. That’s actually pretty cool. I was obsessed with horror and sci-fi growing up. I had all those Books of Blood. Captain Nemo was a hero to me.
Someone asked me, don’t you need to know science to write science fiction? I don’t know. But it’s called fiction. I’m not gonna tell people how to break down atoms and make their own microwave. That’s how it works right, mini nuclear explosions in your kitchen?
I’m actually writing a sci-fi piece. It’s coloured by my traumatic life experience and some Goines, Iceberg Slim, Ed Lacy type of stuff.
When the aliens find our charred remains all that will be left are our computers full of useless blogs, porn, and baking recipes; also, probably a lot of pictures of cute animals, and more porn. They might say SDRAWASDFAFASTTUYIYUIJYK which means good riddance, the universe sure didn’t need them.
I’ve read three books of short fiction beginning this journey to writing. Better Living Through Plastic Explosives, The Umbrella Man, and Hot Water Music. This is no book review but Umbrella Man is definitely worth a read. Better Living was good. It suffered from all the praise heaped on it. I don’t know what I was expecting from it; I liked it once I actually got my hands on it though. Hot Water Music, seemed to resonate most with me.
That’s my problem with book reviews. I’m not impartial. I like what resonates most with me. Any book review I write will be that. Pawn Stars offered a succinct review of Henry David Thoreau’s Walden. “Sounds like hippie shit to me.”
See, that’s what happens when you stop reading.
There you have it. I was all crunched up with anxiety because of an interview and editorial test for a job this afternoon. I aced it. Here’s how, and you don’t have to send me money through Pay Pal. I’ll let you in on this little secret:
Hyperbole
I read this blog. It’s so funny I kinda peed. Honestly, this girl needs a man in her life and she’s got me rock, like piratinera guianensis.
I like this one too http://www.matadorofbananatown.com/
I took my friend’s advice and sent an email to J. Sawyer for some words of wisdom. Then I read his blog that asks wannabe writers not to do any of that. So I wrote an apology and said I have aspergers.
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