Honey, I’m Hooooome!

Okay, so I hope neither of my faithful readers take this the wrong way:
I am the exclusive type.

That is, I prefer to read stuff that’s interesting and actually readable: mostly correct in punctuation and grammar. A typo here and there is excusable, I suppose, but what really turns my crank is the correct spelling of “definitely!” Wow, what skillful writing!

Recently I’ve begun wading into the writers/literary agents/publishing blogosphere (yes, silly spellcheck, that IS a word—and don’t you spellcheck me on ‘spellcheck,’ you ironical beast), and for the most part, it’s been refreshingly…correct. I don’t find any gag-inducing misusage of “there/their/they’re,” and the paragraphs are bite-sized and filled with engaging quips and interesting info.

Not only that, but—miracle of miracles—even those writing comments on the blogs (or most of them, anywho) are actually writing in complete sentences! Can it be true? Have I come home? After so many years of wandering through the wilderness of poorly written news stories and illegible forum posts, I may have found my comfy spot.

Hopefully I won’t settle in so much that I develop bedsores.

Yes, I’m aware that by posting this I’m setting myself up for critique. I know this blog is largely a simple monologue in which few readers would have any interest, and I’m so green at this writing bit that I am sure to make a fool of myself often.

But I figure at the very least, I’m increasing my dexterity and typing speed.

To both of you, thanks for sticking around. ?

By the way, if you do wish to comment, please spellcheck and run it by your copyeditor before soiling my blog with literary refuse.

…just kidding. I’m just glad your you’re here.

She can be taught..

Some things I am learning lately:

  • Writers are Readers, first and foremost. I could read all day about writing and never write a thing.
  • If pictures are indicators (which, um, they usually are), many writers appear to be sadly out of shape, which is great news for me! People could just take one look at me and think, “Wow, what a slob! She must be a very successful writer.”
  • Even fiction is composed mostly of truth…you have to start with something you know and launch into the unknown..otherwise, it’s not believable. Duh.
  • Pita and cheese with basil and tomato is a lovely lunch. And somewhat healthy.
  • This one is a bit alarming to me: today’s teen/tween readers are into some gruesome stuff. Vampires, flesh-eating worms, witches, warlocks. This is what’s ‘cool’ to read nowadays. That makes me queasy. Whatever happened to Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys? And is this stuff worth competing with? YES. For heaven’s sake, literally. Though I’m not sure that it’s my genre, somebody somewhere, I hope, is writing worthwhile stuff for these kids–stuff they actually want to read.

*yawn*…going to bed now. More to learn tomorrow.

There’s no gold in them thar hills

So, we went for a little family outing Saturday…diggin’ for gold, so to speak, at a used bookstore. It was packed, and the aisle with titles like How to Write and Not Sound Like a Moron and You Can Make Up Stuff that Other People Want to Read and Pay For!!! was crowded with other hopeful miners.

When I finally managed to maneuver my double stroller (yes, double) to the desired spot, I discovered a sadly lacking variety of titles. Only stuff like Maybe You’re Not the Worst Writer and Buy This Book so This Author’s Children Can Eat was left. Also unnerving was the fact that none of these books really looked like they’d been used much. What seemed more likely was that they’d been bought by some hopeful loser who read two pages and gave up, then traded it for a DVD of All Dogs go to Heaven. That person is still on his couch, now watching reruns of “Home Improvement.”

The only shelf I didn’t scan was the bottom one; however, bending down to look would have been impossible: I was hemmed in on every side by oblivious fellow pseudo-intellectuals (“they’re called ‘readers,’ Dad”); the aisle was so narrow, and I’m …not. So while there may have been priceless titles awaiting my perusal on the bottom shelf, they escaped unnoticed.

It was upon my removal from that aisle that I developed my plan: rather than actually writing something worthwhile, and going through all the rigamarole of studying books on how to write, and going to conferences, and getting an agent and all that, I’m just going to self-publish some stuff about a dwarf who has to return some jewelry to a volcano, and cram it down defenseless children’s throats. And I’m going to draw the cover art myself, to save money. And it’s going to be a trilogy, so I’ll make three times as much money on it.

Success and fame, here I come!!