Let me just say, first and foremost, I'm a great admirer of Janet Reid. Her Query Shark blog takes the time to help out the little people, and it is appreciated. GREATLY appreciated. But I am a sucker for irony.
Yesterday on her blog - I would have a link up, but the iPhone and blogger don't get along - she posted about not getting a book from an author she loves for reviewing on her blog. For a bullshit reason, too. If I had a chance for her to review my book on her blog? I'd slap my mother's mouth to make it happen.
What I find hilarious is that the rejector becomes the rejected. It's a kind of sweet irony that only a peasant in th industry like myself can enjoy. Let me again say that I have nothing but love for her and what she does, but God if I didn't have a good chuckle.
Keep at it, sharkie. Let Harlequin hear your roar.
Showing posts with label random. Show all posts
Showing posts with label random. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Thursday, September 15, 2011
The game is afoot!
Say that with your best Sean Connery accent and it sounds so much cooler.
So the other night I went to a local bar where, every Tuesday, they have an author come talk about their book. This week was a man who grew up on a South African wildlife preserve during the apartheid era. Very interesting stuff that made for a good read (Especially the part about lions making a kill right next to where he's sleeping). But the most important thing to happen? I successfully said to somebody I met there "why yes, I write speculative fiction." For one, it's a lot cooler than saying "geese guysh I write schi-fi novelsh!!!!11!" But another thing: I don't say "oh I write on the side when I'm not working". I fucking WRITE, son. Dig it.
I almost feel like I'm a spy amongst them. These members of academia, these people who are teachers and students and professional 'thinkers'. Here is this kid from North Carolina with no ties to FSU claiming to write! Almost professionally! "ahem... Gentlemen?"
Writer is spy!
Anyway, while not feeling like I was successfully bullshiting everyone there, I did take a lot in. It was nice.
Wordslinger-117 out.
So the other night I went to a local bar where, every Tuesday, they have an author come talk about their book. This week was a man who grew up on a South African wildlife preserve during the apartheid era. Very interesting stuff that made for a good read (Especially the part about lions making a kill right next to where he's sleeping). But the most important thing to happen? I successfully said to somebody I met there "why yes, I write speculative fiction." For one, it's a lot cooler than saying "geese guysh I write schi-fi novelsh!!!!11!" But another thing: I don't say "oh I write on the side when I'm not working". I fucking WRITE, son. Dig it.
I almost feel like I'm a spy amongst them. These members of academia, these people who are teachers and students and professional 'thinkers'. Here is this kid from North Carolina with no ties to FSU claiming to write! Almost professionally! "ahem... Gentlemen?"
Writer is spy!
Anyway, while not feeling like I was successfully bullshiting everyone there, I did take a lot in. It was nice.
Wordslinger-117 out.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
I feel bad for my keyboard
Sometimes I feel like I dont pay it enough attention. It's there and shouting "Hey, remember me? Remember all that shit you've got in your head? I can get it out for you." But then I look at it and say "Silly keyboard, if I do that, then I'll just obsess over it and want to get it perfect."
And that doesn't happen. You don't get things perfect, you get them to the point where you go "Alright, maybe..." and then you send it off for someone to read it and hopefully they think "Alright, maybe..." and we're back to square one of waiting for that reject slip.
Damn, that's pretty pessimistic, huh? A bit too George McFly. I just don't think I could take that kind of rejection.
But I do have an odd relationship with the keyboard. It wants me to use it, and when I use it, I beat the poor thing relentlessly. And then I saw what I beat out of it and beat it some more. And it never complains. I think it likes it.
The dirty thing.
And that doesn't happen. You don't get things perfect, you get them to the point where you go "Alright, maybe..." and then you send it off for someone to read it and hopefully they think "Alright, maybe..." and we're back to square one of waiting for that reject slip.
Damn, that's pretty pessimistic, huh? A bit too George McFly. I just don't think I could take that kind of rejection.
But I do have an odd relationship with the keyboard. It wants me to use it, and when I use it, I beat the poor thing relentlessly. And then I saw what I beat out of it and beat it some more. And it never complains. I think it likes it.
The dirty thing.
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