Lofty Goals
I have a new goal to add to this year's list: try to sell
two stories! Imagine that. Others make it look so easy. It takes me forever these days to get the world and the characters and the plot and the style just so in my mind so I can actually write a story--that is, when I am actually writing and not sitting around blocked. (I originally was going to type "as blocked as the kitchen sink," which, thanks to you-know-who is very blocked. Noodles, I think. And grease. But then my mind rebelled and did not want to compare me to a sink blocked with noodles and grease ... though relented after the fact. Just to give you that pretty mental image.)
And another goal: actually see a story in print. It's been a long time since 2000. Three years, in fact. I need to see a short story in print before I feel that all is hopeless and begin to seriously mope and dress only in black and buy myself a beret to help me look pretentious. Of course, if I did all of the above, it wouldn't matter if I was blocked (even as blocked as the kitchen sink) because instead of wanting to write I'd just have to look like I might have written something once, and spend my days sipping cappuccino and looking arty, and maybe occasionally trying to weasel my way into open-mike nights so that I can sit at the back and criticize others. ... Oh, dear. This is what happens when I get hungry.
There are some potentially cool things going on over here, though I'm biting my tongue for now. Superstition and all. That, and I'm afraid of getting my hopes up. If I type things out now, they'll be posted for all the world to see in plain black and ... yellowy-orange, and then won't I look like a moron when everything falls through? But I'd appreciate any crossed fingers, from anyone who has fingers to spare. If nothing else, I'll have an interesting story or two to tell when this is all finished.
