I play a little game. Its title, “Enrage the Editor.” Subtitle (using the wrong font of course), “They’ve got nothing better to do than fix your shitty shit submission.”
Here’s how the game is played.
I’ve done it a million times. It never fails to fill everyone involved with glee.
I get the joy of seeing my work rejected. This instantly gives me more to write about. How is that not happiness realized?
The editor of course wonders why he/she/they bothered to craft said guidelines. Worst case scenario — the editors contemplates the meaning of life itself, has an existential crisis and considers either self harm, homicide or a trial of anti-psychotic medications. …
It’s a slap in the face, the one-, two- or three-clap is.
As a matter of fact, anything less than the big “5-Oh!” should be reconsidered.
But how to train readers, AKA writing lovers, to give you what you really like, what you really need?
Here’s a plan that might work, using the best motivator of all, sex!
Hang in there with me.
It’s just like guiding a new lover to what really turns you on. I’ll give you an example.
“Oh yeah babe! That’s it! Hold that cursor right over the two little hands and press! Now hold it. Now click that left mouse button over and over again. Oh yeah that’s just right. You can play with my mouse buttons any time! Now faster, slower, deeper, harder. …
Like everyone in this world, big and small, Michelle Obama is on Twitter. So, I tweeted her.
I did it because, after publishing my “Quitting” story on Medium, a reader responded that the former First Lady had explored a similar theme in her book “Becoming.” That is, moving up and moving on requires one to break with the known and take a leap into the unknown in order to progress and grow as a person.
Truth be told, I’ve not read “Becoming.” So I don’t know if “quitting” is a subject explored in the work. I’m just taking my faithful reader at her word. Egregious fact [not] checking, I know. …
I remember when I was a complete unknown, a nobody. I remember it like it was yesterday.
Maybe that’s because it was yesterday. Today as well. And probably tomorrow too.
What does it look like I’m doing here?
Doesn’t this contradict the advice just above to “write more?” Well, no matter.
Here’s one example of my latest quality writing. I’m still refining these opening lines, but I do think I’m on to something.
It was the acme of times. It was the least good of times. It was the age of smartness. It was the age of idiocy. It was the era of blind faith. It was the era of disbelief …
Still refining here, but this passage seems perfect as the opening lines to my new book, “A Story of Two Towns.” …
We all know that surfers have a special language; it’s part of what makes them so cool.
I missed out on the cool of surfing, a lasting aftereffect of a misspent youth, even though I lived near the beach growing up. Not being able to surf is still a bummer, one of my few regrets in life.
In the last few years though I’ve taken up boogie boarding, also called “body boarding” by some adults attempting to sound less childlike about their somewhat-less-cool-than-surfing activity.
I boogie board because it’s sweeeeet! That’s the same as “cool” or “lit” or “dank” or even “bitchin’” or “neato” if you’re a person of a certain age. …
Our much-beloved Cheeto-in-Chief has nearly 500 nicknames, and counting!*
Most of us have one or two pet names since those near and dear to our hearts get nicknamed. That difference should tell you something about our collective regard for the MAGA-low-maniac.
Benito Cheeto references are crammed into this ode, like cheeseburgers into a Bilious Billionaire. My apologies in advance for ruining the good name of Benito Mussolini and the planet’s healthiest “food” in the service of art.
😬 😝 😬 😝 😬 😝 😬 😝 😬 😝 😬 😝😬 😝 😬 😬 😝 😬 😝 😬
Donald Drumpf, Decomposing Jack…
But, both “eel tickling” and “couch fucking” and several other activities would serve equally well as names for killer workouts.
Credit where credit is due — the germ of this idea came to me via Hogan Torah. He is at once hilarious, absurd, wise and wacky. IMHO, one of the best comedic writers here.
Read on to see what I mean about the workout bits.
Whining, belly button lint mining, spinning (in circles), etc.
This question recently appeared on social media. “Which creative endeavors do you enjoy besides writing?”
I’ll skip over the fact that the deluded questioner erroneously assumed that anyone ENJOYED writing.
Many responded beautifully — “calligraphy,” “dance,” “music” (or stuff like that) and more truly creative pastimes all appeared as answers to the question.
My knee-jerk reaction to the question, “part time nap champion.”
The near-instantaneous response that shot out of me stimulated some thinking. Especially after another slacker indicated that they too creatively endeavored to be a part time nap champion.
How about these creative endeavors instead of writing? …