The subject of this entry mostly grew out of my self-awareness that as a writer, I’ve been doing it every day. The natural progression from that inspiring thought was, hey, writers fit into just about any innuendo category, don’t they? Writers do it standing up, sitting down, lying down, from front to back, from back to front, or starting in the middle. Writers do it whenever they can. Writers do it by the book. Writers do it by the rules, except when writers do it however they want. And my brain feels mushy after typing all that. The point is, if you wanted to Co-Ed Nakedify writers, you’d have to start a new subline of t-shirts.
In other writing news, I got my second rejection for IT, aka the Bloated Novel That Sat on a Dias and Mind-Controlled Everyone. (With apologies to Madeleine L’Engle, who probably–hopefully–has written eloquently about her own rejections, which I will be seeking immediately after finishing this half-assed blog post.) I stared at the email for a while and then I spent a few hours high-kicking like Ann Reinking to get my feelings out.
(Photograph by Jack Mitchell. Source.)
After my high-kicking session, I thought about the normal emo-y things you think about when you (or I, rather) get rejections. Do I want to do this? Am I a writer? Do I suck? Should I stop?* And then I drank more tea and realized that it was pretty pathetic to react to a total of Two, Count ‘Em, Two rejections in such a dramatic way. And then I also realized that attempting to high-kick like a dance superstar might result in more dramatic thoughts than is my wont.
And then I sat down at my desk and opened up the thing I’d been working on lately, and I got back to writing.
(Or: maybe I finished my shift at work, went home, ate dinner, laughed at bad television with A. while we ate, walked the dog, took a shower, did the dishes, went to bed, got up too goddamn early, and then did all that other inspiring stuff. Interspersed with high-kicks. Just to note reality. The end.)
*Yes/no, yes, probably but that’s not the point, yes/no.