I would say that posting to my blog is like pulling teeth, but I used to be a dental assistant, and I know that pulling teeth isn’t really that hard. Now a root canal, that’s a little more difficult. It takes time and precision to get to the apex. That much more describes my problem. I’ll explain.
Time: if I’m at the computer I’m working on my ms.
Precision: I don’t want to ramble.
Apex or “the point”: I have a hard time coming up with a topic to blog about, and that’s the real problem.
I don’t feel I’m someone to offer advice on the craft of writing, especially since there are so many great blogs with great advice out there. Since I’m still working on editing and polishing my ms, there’s not a whole lot to tell. But, I’m hoping to start querying soon, and with that, I can blog about my experience with the process.
That being said, I do have a little something I can share with you, although there’s not much to tell. A week ago I submitted a (humorous) poem for a book to be published 2011. It is my first submission ... ever. Wow, it was hard clicking on that submit button. But the moment I did, I was filled with excitement and relief.
Then, this weekend I found a new writers group – about 25 people – writers of all kinds. That’s way more than I’ve read to before. I was so nervous getting up in front of them. I read the poem that I had just submitted (which by the way I hadn’t read anywhere before) and to my absolute delight … it was a hit! I found myself having to wait for the laughter to die down before starting the next stanza.
Yeah, they got it! Cue Sally Fields acceptance speech. Yes, that was going through my head as I went back to my seat.
Hey look at that, in telling you that I have nothing to talk about, I talked about something. Uh-oh, I might be breaking my “no rambling” rule.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
A handful of customers wandered the drug store aisles that night. No music played over the air and conversation was at a minimum – prime condition for a loud mouth blond to make a fool of herself.
I was 23 years old, newly married, and dirt poor. So, browsing the drug store was our big night out. My husband went one way and I went another. I picked up some decongestant and continued on; scanning the shelves for some sort of ear-flushing kit (not knowing if that sort of thing even existed) but I wanted clean ears.
Then right at eye level, I found it: Ear Wax Removal System. Yes, it does exist! (It took little to excite me.) It was a very small package, with a very small (0.5 oz.) bottle of drops, and it was like ten bucks. So I continued, looking for a better deal. On the bottom shelf I found a system that advertised “Extra Cleaning” and it was only about two bucks. Good deal, and look at that – 7.8 oz. – more for the money.
I grabbed the box off the shelf and went to find my husband.
“You know how you’re always saying I can’t hear you,” I said from the other end of the aisle. Then I held up the box to show him as I approached. “I’m gonna get all that gunk out!”
He looked confused. “With an Enema?”
“Yes silly, it’s for your ears,” I announced. Then looked down at the box, back at him, and naively asked, “What’s an Enema?”