BOOK UPDATE: It would appear that I have only written 300 words over this past week, but that doesn't mean I haven't put in loads of work. As I say, it's been all editing and probably will be for the rest of the month.
The editing process is slow and rather annoying, but there's something quite satisfying about it. I will chop away unnecessary words and move around paragraphs and rewrite and rewrite and rewrite and come away from it thinking: "Wow. That actually is better."
Still, I'm eager to finish up editing this second part and move on to the third. I am hoping to have something to finally show for myself on my 29th birthday (March 20 -- mark your calendars).
I found out this week that my friend, Paul, starts work on his Ph.D. at Massachusetts Institute of Technology in just a few weeks. He's married to a doctor.
My friend, Eric, is an accomplished musician, whose wife is earning her MBA. They'll be buying a home in the autumn.
My friend, Lindsay, who reads this blog, starts her master's degree work in what, two weeks?
My wife is close to completing her master's degree work and is going to save the world from itself.
Can you see the weak link here? It's me.
Sure, I'll still be the same useless monkey I've always been if I get a book published, but, you know, I'll have a BOOK. If it's published in hardcover, I can use it to physically defend myself against an attacker -- let's see Paul do that with his fancy MIT degree.
Anybody know any literary agents? Sooner or later I should probably start looking for one, I suppose.
What better way to start the school year than blistering drunk?
Please let this be true.
I can imagine this sort of thing happening to me: Waking up to discover a load of misinformed protestors on my lawn.
In my case, though, they would inevitably be protesting something that I, too, would protest, like Nazis, but they wouldn't listen to me.
THEM: "Boo. We hate Nazis!"
ME: "I do, too. Stop calling me a Nazi. I hate Nazis, too. Please stop tearing up my lawn. I'm not a Nazi."
THEM: "We would expect you to deny it, Nazi!"
ME: "But, really. I'm not a Nazi."
And on and on.
Behold: The super genius crow.
Olympic trampoline rocks!