Tonight I did some rewriting work on a story and remembered what it was I wanted to be when I grow up. Pre-writing work can get in the way of writing.
So now at the other side of a bleary eyed caffeine rush now dead, I have the latest draft of my story, “Why the Crow Cries.” I wrote it, originally, my sophomore year at Eureka and I think it was the second real short story I ever wrote (third if you count something from high school…1,299,333,740,945th, if you count some of the things that have cropped up on my head). The idea came from a passage of Dante read in high school. It’s also the story that turned into the long poem that turned into the Epic I’m trying to write. I figured it was about time to re-polish it and put it to rest. So I’m entering it in a fiction contest in the school’s writing journal.
All part of my campaign to get as many of my 27+ odd short stories (and they are odd come to think of it) before I graduate (especially any of the ones having to do with or acting as chapters of, my thesis). That way I have some credentials when I shop around for publishers.
That’s a plan.
My other plan is to get a suit.
I’m picking up my suit tomorrow.
Thanks Kris and Wil for coming with me last weak and helping me pick it out. How do you define friends? I define them as the people that go along with you for moral support; pointing and laughing at you when the suit salesman says, “We’re going to have to let your crotch out.” Thanks guys 🙂
It is a funny question though….
“We’re going to have to let your crotch out.”
“Don’t do that. He’s very mischievous and destructive.”
My crotch and I are going to bed now.
Night (or Day).