05.17.04

I'm a writer! I got a rejection letter today. This wasn't any ordinary rejection, oh no, this was a personally addressed and signed rejection letter. It was sent back because they no longer do a dead tree version of their literary magazine. Woohoo, rejected due to technology, not content. Or so I'm choosing to believe.

*grin*

Working on my Very First Piece of porn/erotic prose that's intended for an audience. Having a lot of fun, but am stymied by how hard it is to write effective porn that's above the level of "I walked into a restaurant and, much to my surprise, two waiters..." Gar. The gauntlet was flung, so I'm trying to rise to the challenge and the writing.

The pollen's flying. Histamines dance a torrid frug in my sinuses. I think there may be some unsanctioned bodie greening (i.e. the dirty boogie) going on down by the sphenoid sinus.

Feeling light-headed and a wee bit deaf as I sit in front of my computer, Nadine. bluh bluh bluh...

I can see it now. Nadine C. Piu and her trusty sidekick, Phyllis P. Rintah. Just a coupla happy-go-lucky gals who fall into crazy adventures with a revolving cast of supporting characters. Twenty-two shows, 22 minutes long, available for syndication in two months with available strong product placement opportunities.

*eep* Told you I was light-headed. I was in Xat-vania. It is a happy place; filled with poo-flinging monkeys, witty and erudite (but rilly, rilly hot) porn (with closed-captioning) (moaning), great science fiction writing/shows/movies/toys and all the other bizarre detritus that's in me noggin.

Stop!

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