So it's happened. I have sent my short story Wendy Roase to be edited and proof read by this very awesome proof reading friend of mine. Other friends of mine have told me she's very good and quite brutal when it comes to telling you what is wrong and right with your writing. Waiting to hear back on how much I suck.
I found myself fixing little turns of phrases still before sending it to her. I wonder if writers ever truly get done fixing their stories. Or is there just a time that comes when they kind of say fuck it and leave it alone. I feel so sick to my stomach. I kind of get that way with this blog when I do post stories and such, but this is worse. Usually commenters aren't sitting there critiquing every single word and spelling; telling you what should keep and what you shouldn't. Well at least not on this blog, but that probably has more to do with the number of people actually reading it and deciding to comment than anything else. Not saying that I don't like it when people do that, I do enjoy the criticism, it's how you learn.
However with this blog I can include caveats before the story, letting people know what they should expect. I can let them know ahead of time if I was experimenting with something in the story. I decided not to do that this time. I want to put this up as a free e-book to gain more readers and actually get off my ass on this whole 'I-want-to-do-this-for-a-living' thing. I don't intend to include any caveats for the e-book. It just sounds pitying and almost pandering...unprofessional. It might make my anxiety go through the roof but I need to learn to let the chips fall where they may.
On the subject of anti-progress however it seems that my lovely little Acer netbook that I have dubbed 'Tinytop' is dead. She died a week ago at around 1pm I believe. I don't know what happened. I think it might be my fault though. I went to sleep with it by my side, listening to Kerli Koiv and when I woke it was turned off. I had my arm lying halfway on its keyboard. I think it got overheated maybe. Now it won't turn on at all or light up or anything. My friend thinks that it might have something to do with the motherboard. I'm going to take it to Best Buy in a couple of days since I was told that they do free diagnostics on computers. Every so often I go upstairs and open it and hit the power button half expecting it to ding on as if it was saying, "Fooled you!" but it doesn't.
The really shitty thing about this is that all my story lines and plot points were on that thing and I'm afraid that I won't be able to get them back off. There were also pictures for blog entries and a couple of blog challenges that I had saved and even made up. I don't think I'll be getting them back but I'm holding out hope and am currently working on taking everything I remember and putting it in a notebook as a last ditch effort to save all the working titles and shit. Oy vay.
Oh well, I guess this shall teach me. Always, always back up your shit! I had been meaning to get one of those USB stick memory things, but I kept putting it off like an arrogant shit. Now look at my predicament! You'd think that since I love Sex and the City so much I would have learned from Carrie when this happened to her. Hopefully my situation produces a similar outcome and I'm able to get all my things from that computer back. If not....c'est la vie....
In other more horrible news, I'm pretty sure that my car is an evil sentient being from a Stephen King story.
I was taking a fuck it drive down Mountain Road and I hit a little fox. It was this absolutely horrible moment in time where the fox seemed to almost materialize in front of my car and then did this little panic dance before my wheel obliterated it. I didn't even have time to stop. After that I cried for a bit, then turned around and went straight home.
So far this brings my car's death tally up to 3 confirmed kills, 1 bonk and 1 attempt. This sounds really horrible to say, but I'm getting better with dealing with running over animals. The first time it happened was in North Carolina while driving with my two friends. This possum ran across the car side of the road and gave me no time to even try and stop the car. I had to pull over I was crying so hard. My then friends didn't really help though. They kept laughing and making jokes and trying to give me high fives.
The bonk was on the 4th of July a couple of years ago. I was riding down the street and was only going about 15 mph, when this adorable chubby dove flew right in front of my car. I tried hitting the brakes, but I wound up hitting it. However it didn't stop flying. It dipped a bit and then kept going up in the air....unless that was just from the force of my car. I like to think that it survived though.
My co workers in our close knit office got a good laugh at that one. I walked into work forlornly carrying sodas for the party.
Co worker: What's wrong, you look like you've been crying.
Me: I hit a dove...but it flew away, it should be OK right?
C: You killed the symbol for peace...on the 4th of July?
Me: Shut up!
I didn't cry as badly with the fox. I think this is my cars way of desensitizing me to death. That way my human emotions won't get in the way when we inevitably go on a killing spree through Baltimore City, running over flocks of school children and mothers with strollers (my car seems to like small to medium sized mammalian creatures, I'm just picking its type.).
I drove home last night with the windows down, listening to see if my tire was flat. On the way home a deer poked its head up from the bushes as I passed it. I swear through the rushing air and the hum of the engine I heard the car vroom, "Next time."