Monday's alliterative post was a lot of fun to write- probably less fun to read. These things happen sometimes here in Hubrisland but not frequently. I had to write something (I have a quota) and the alphabetical alliteration idea wouldn't get out of my head so I inflicted it on you. I have all this inconvenient vocabulary that I never get a chance to use and it just all builds up. I'd apologize but I'm not at all sorry (it's not about the money etc.)
This has been more of a reading week than a writing week here at Hubris House. I happened across a new collection of P.G. Wodehouse's Jeeves and Wooster stories. Fortunately for me Just Enough Jeeves offers 712 pages of distraction from writing.
Bertie's life is so simple really. He gets into awful messes but they're only awful to him and, frequently, the people who become involved in them. His omniscient butler, Jeeves, is always able to rescue him. Who couldn't use a man like Jeeves about the place? He knows everything and is gentle about the way he helps his employer who, frankly, does not deserve him.
Maybe Jeeves could find me an agent or, better yet, a publishing contract?
Lately it feels like my goal is absolutely unreachable. This writing thing seems like a colossal waste of time. I am just one of thousands of blah blah blah. I'm sure it's been said before. Stupid people think I'm failing because I'm no good; smart people think I'm failing because the chances of success are so small. I'm sort of siding with the stupid people right now.
Ahhhh reject me already you months-old-but-still-open queries/contests! I can't stand the pressure of hope anymore. I can happily write stuff once I know I'm not good enough since the only way to get better is to practice. I could happily write *more* stuff if I had the faintest hint I wasn't wasting my time on a career that will never pan out. Also it would be nice to pick a genre and perfect it. I'd like someone more qualified than myself to pick the genre for me please.
Jeeves would be able to tell me what to do next. I, unlike Wooster, would listen. Since I don't make any money I couldn't hire Jeeves therefore matrimony would be my only hope of enjoying his attention full time. Sadly not only is Jeeves not the marrying type- he's also fictional. Dang. Another brilliant plan thwarted. And here I sit in a big old, very bad, writing funk.
Here's hoping next week is better. Until then I wish you success in whatever goal you're working toward since it would be nice if *somebody* gets a little closer to success this week.