Writing and Reading

Feast your eyes on the previous post and know, my sons and daughters, that working on a different computer while posting on a blog can present…interesting results.

Like those alien computer bugs that chop your head off while you’re having a conversation and you’re left hanging. Yes. I go now before they eat me.

Surprise! I’m still alive. Yes. It’s true. It is SO true.

And so you’re wondering why I haven’t posted in awhile. The answer is simple:

I. HAVE. NO.

INTERNET.

It’s like the dark ages. Seriously. I feel like the only human being in an empty world filled with carcasses and cow bones with

First off, let me say how annoying it is to have very serious internet/computer problems (not to mention losing my day job, which loses me my internet connection during the day).

THERE. I said it.

Now that I got that out of the way, I can get to the topic at hand (can you tell I’m slightly irritated? Don’t worry, I’ll be fine after a little junk food).

My loving girlfriend brought up the concept to me unintentionally, and I thank her for it. And partly for answering a question the wonderful Barbara Ehrentreu asked me during her online interview of me :-). (Yes, children, I was interviewed. You can laugh).

It was a question about critique groups. Funny she asked that.

Being a degree holder from the University of Illinois at Chicago, I’ve taken a few creative writing workshop classes for my B.A. I don’t have to use too many words to even describe to you how invaluable they were. Any person looking to follow a dream of writing should participate in some form of creative writing workshop or critique group. To read other people’s writing and to have others read yours is so needed the way the gardens of the world need rain.

I have a story for you, though:

For a time during my endeavor to complete my degree, I was essentially living in my car (sort of). I, at the time, drove from Illinois to Michigan pretty regularly every weekend (sometimes during the week). AND I attended the university, working hard to complete my degree.

You can imagine that it was taxing on me physically. I sometimes had to down four or five Starbucks Double Shots just to remember my name. Many, many, many, many, many times I was late to class.

So on one particular occasion, I was in my workshop for creative writing in fiction. I think it was called “English 401: Fiction Writing” or something like that. I had attended several sessions already in the semester, and I had passed around some of my work to my classmates for their critique.

I received a copy of my work from one classmate, completely anonymous, essentially TRASHING ME. Not my work. ME.

The person refused to read my work, saying I was so disrespectful for always being late to class, thought my work didn’t deserve to be read, or critiqued, or even allowed to see the light of day (I’m paraphrasing, but you can guess the comment on my work was HARSH).

I was stunned. Nay, dismayed. I felt somewhat guilty. I also felt angry.

This, my friends, is something you should NOT do while participating in a critique group or writing workshop. For one particular reason:

LOOK AT ME NOW.

Do I care one bit for this one person who was too cowardly to even sign his/her name on my work? No. Because look at me now. I’ve found a home for my book, a dedicated publishing house and an awesome editor. I have a book cover. Someone believes in my work. I’m…a published author (not to toot my own horn).

If you even think it helps to speak your mind on personal feelings about someone when the whole purpose of the critique group or writing workshop is to, well…critique work and workshop writing…NOT bash someone…you then need horse tranquilizers to put you out of your misery.

This one self-centered, egotistical vomitous mass of yellow dog pudding of a person or whatever IT is that made that comment on a copy of my work in writing class just insulted a future published author. Sad.

And the only reason I got ’slammed’ by this person was because I drove three hours to make it to class, and I was about 15 minutes late. Oh, boy. Wow. I need help with time management, apparently!

I tried to find that wonderful clip from “A Knight’s Tale” when we meet a naked Geoffrey Chaucer valiantly trudging along even though he lost everything in his life–the weary yet determined walk of a man who has nothing else to live for (or at least he feels he has nothing to live for). Alas, I couldn’t find it on YouTube.

However, I can still simply state that I’m at that stage in my life, folks.

My internet is down at the apartment (I’m using a friend’s laptop at her house)….

And the big winner to justify my TRUDGE in life–

I got fired from my day job.

A couple of drafts later, and Buffi came up with what looks like a chilling, picturesque, pretty palette-filled fray of blood and darkness teasing those in the night hungering for the fire of fierce shadows. My own blood curdles upon looking at it…but somehow I’m…drawn to it….

Like a siren beckoning me to come, to be embraced by the arms of a pale banshee and dying mercifully in her arms, with ecstasy.

Okay, I’ll stop. Here it is!