"I have new shoes, they are blue and fast.
When I wear them, I can fly like a goddamned reindeer."
In loving memory of Turple


writing on the interweb

The people in here are always talking. They use words like java, transactions, developers, code base, acquiring. Why can't we talk to each other? I'm bored of writing about boredom.

Maybe my world has become boring? Why can't I write something fun, something big, bold, and full of red meat, giggles and screams?

I'm on the edge of a decision. I'm thinking of stepping out of the writing closet. I'm thinking of putting some cobbled ramblings on the internet. I'm too lazy to chase around rejection letters or learn what a real story smells like.

"Hi."

"Hey."

"So what do you do?"

"I'm a publisher."

I'm scared of something, just not sure what. Maybe I just don't want to offer a clearer picture of myself? Maybe I'm scared of stumbling in on a conversation:

"No seriously, he put them on the internet."

"And they're really that bad?"

"Well not bad, more funny bad."

I could make that my goal, to entertain people with the low quality of my writing. I should write about green warriors, tall ships, low swampy lakes, a pushy but loving neighbour, that party last Friday. Writing topics are easy to find when you're not looking for them but the good topics only arrive when you stop digging in the closet.



Comments

I can put you in contact with a publisher.

Posted by kenny, August 22, 2005


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