i mek pretti werds

chingchong

This meme has always stuck in my head, because it’s me. I can be sitting at my computer during work hours, when I’m supposed to be coming up with sentences and paragraphs (either for paid clients, or for my fiction writing exercises), and nothing comes from my brain down my phalanges and turns into actual sensical English words. What I manage to type ranges from heaping piles of trite crap, to utter nonsense. Then, at night when I’m out or, even more frustrating, trying to scurry off to Dreamland, THAT is when the deep, meaningful ideas come.

One of my resolutions is to write more–not just for corporate clients, and not just hilarious but devoid-of-profit-potential Facebook updates/comments, but fiction that people besides me, my wife and my Dad might want to read (and, hopefully, that strangers will want to pay for). Today, though–potato, potato. You’re going to have to be satisfied with this blog post, universe.

More tomorrow.

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Author:

Writer, drinker, arbiter of sarcasm.

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