At some point or another, September apparently showed up. Or every single calendar I’ve encountered since Sunday has been telling me horrible, cruel lies. I’m slightly more inclined to believe the former is true, however, because I’m not all that big into outrageous conspiracies on most days. This summer provided many opportunities for hilarious misadventures, but it also somehow managed to be entirely draining. From the work-related madness to the life-related madness (with a friendly reminder there was a goddamn bat in my house not too long ago), this summer has felt less like a season of vacation, rejuvenation, and fun in the sun, and more like a time of frustration, bad news so bad it bordered onto comedy, and both minor and major setbacks. That’s not to say all of the summer was bad, of course. I won a book contract, which I then over-thought to the point of making it a good and a bad thing (if you missed that you should count your blessings and move along). Brianne and I have found a new place to live, which I’m quite excited about (save for now having to cut the grass, which is far from ideal). I could probably go on for a dozen more posts about my trip to Chicago, but it’s probably for the best I don’t. You were all right, Summer of 2014, but you certainly tested me. For that I should probably be thankful. Continue reading
Before I even start with today’s post, I need to mention a gem I forgot last night. That whole post about my workstation, happy as I am to have the desk and desktop set up, was written on my phone. If you’re feeling an overwhelming urge to roll your eyes about now, that’s probably a natural response to such a statement and it should be embraced. Go on. Roll them like someone just told a really awful joke.
This post is going to follow my writing and creative efforts of the day, with some degree of detail (with some omitted because I don’t want to bore anyone to death). That way I can focus on this, but focus more on the proofreading, writing, and submissions I need to get done today, as well as get a little cleaning done in preparation of Marceline (Or maybe Meowrceline? No, that’s just awful.) being brought home. In case I failed to mention it explicitly: there will soon be three cats wandering my house, which means the cats will outnumber humans. If I go missing for a great length of time, assume I’ve expired and the cats have made a meal of me.
Veering back on topic and away from whatever dark place that joke went, this post will also provide a great way for me to scold myself later for not being able to stay on task for more than ten minutes at a time (that’s a really generous estimate). Typed that last sentence while thinking how I could really benefit from a shower and some breakfast about now.
Prepare to be bored, probably. Or amused. Maybe a mix of those two things. Boredmused? Whatever. Continue reading
We’re twenty-one days into my One Hundred Days of Fiction. This post, by blog-years, can legally buy alcohol. Or maybe it’s the post I should write while completely intoxicated. I won’t do that because I have work tomorrow, but imagine how awful this would be to read had I written it drunk.
It’d probably be as bad as it is now, except with more typos and expletives.
This post is brought to you in part by an entirely carnivorous dinner of leftover ribs and chicken. I’m catching up on Project Runway (don’t judge, it’s a guilty pleasure). Life is pretty good.
That all being said, I feel super-guilty for not doing more creative writing. Yes, I’m doing these Hundred Days of Blogging posts as I said, but I’ve noticed a sharp decline in writing other than this. And proofreading (though I’ve not had much sent my way lately, so that’s unfortunate as well).
Instead of focusing on a topic, I’m focusing on a challenge to myself. Another challenge, yes. Contain your feigned surprise, folks. Continue reading