That’s a pun. I’m plodding along with the writing, and also “enjoying” a sinus infection. I’ll spare you the grisly details, but I should have shares in some tissue company or other, or maybe Bushmills. The hot whiskey toddy is an old family remedy for any kind of lung lurgy. It’s been raining hard for a couple of days, too, and I’ve started calling Spook and Sky the Soggy Moggy and the Soggy Doggy.
I’ve had a very good week, in spite of the sinus thing. I’ve received a writing assignment that’s right smack in my area of expertise. I’ve completed an audio file of myself reading a story for broadcast – not without a good deal of technical frustration and struggle. I’ve had an article published in the Sault Star, I’ve been long-listed in a writing contest I entered in March, and my copies of the Aurora Wolf New Fairy Tales anthology arrived in the mail. Will I ever get used to the thrill of seeing my name in print? Not hardly! As I said, a very good week – snuff, snork!
Even when it feels like same-old, same-old, I’m learning new things. Right now I’d say the biggest lessons are two.
First, with The Swan Harp, I’m learning that even a story I thought about for twenty years, and thought about very hard while I was writing it last fall, can be changed and vastly improved. That was an amazing surprise. I’ve had this experience once before, with “Erik the Viking Sheep”, when the editor at Scholastic made a suggestion for a major change, and it improved the story so much.
Second, I’m learning the values of persistence and change over time. For some months now I’ve been picking away at getting a pet column, and while I haven’t yet managed that goal, I made a big step towards it this week. I was asked to write a very brief article on exotic pets and their requirements. Fortunately, the short word count isn’t a problem because I’ve been writing flash for almost ten years now.
I met an old friend unexpectedly this week, someone who hadn’t seen me for nearly a year. We got caught up on each other’s lives and I told her that I was home writing.
“And you love it,” she said. “I can tell – you just lit up when you said it.”
A good week? Let’s make that “a good life”. And pass the Bushmills.