Novel Stats:
| Words Today | 0 |
| Words Total | 98,500 |
Short Story Stats:
| Written | 2 |
| Submitted | 2 |
| In Circulation | 1 |
| Rejected | 0 |
| Sold | 1 |
Friday,
March 11, 2005
Talking to non-writers about writing
While at lunch with some coworkers, one of them commented on my Yard Dog Press Writer-Ho t-shirt (it being casual Friday, and I nothing if not a whore for Selina Rosen and Yard Dog). This led to tales of the delightful Ms. Rosen, specifically the Drunken Fencing Incident and the Were-Lesbian Story, and how I need to turn my Double Dog MS in next week. My manager teased me about finishing the MS in between my trip to Elizabeth's birthday party tomorrow, and I explained that I was up to 35K, so knocking out 10K over Sunday and Monday shouldn't be that hard.
To say they were taken aback would be an understatement. "I can't image writing ten thousand words, much less thirty-five thousand," one of them muttered. I decided to skip the fact that I churned out 50K in November, and explained the process instead (you nail your ass to the chair and write until blood droplets appear on your forehead). El Jefe replied, "In that case, I'd spend the rest of my life sitting there with writer's block."
Talk about a flash of insight. Since I'm a writer, live with another writer and hang out mainly with writers, sometimes I forget what all this scribbling stuff must seem like to non-writers. Out of curiosity, I asked if any of them had ever tried writing anything. One admitted to "short stuff" but wouldn't elaborate, one said a love letter (but his fiancee forced him to write it so he didn't think it counted), and El Jefe said, "Does email count?"
It was actually rather refreshing to get their POV -- sort of reminded me that no, not everybody does this sort of thing. Although after the Were-Lesbian story, I don't think they're ever going to look at me the same way again.
Oh, bugger
I just realized -- an invitational market that I REALLY wanted to submit to closes on the 15th. Oh, well -- I suppose I don't really need sleep between now and then. . .