Monday, March 25, 2013

I'm Promising



Lying there, in the dark, my mind arace with thousands of thoughts and feelings lacing their way through my mind at a thousand thoughts per second, my hand alighted upon my bare hip—my thin top having ridden up a bit from constant shifting. This, I thought, this is one of those lovely poses they find you in after you've been shot. The detectives come in and snap photos of the scene, lamenting in a matter of fact way about the loss of another life. The news reports trickle in at 10 or 11 o'clock, and they mention something about the loss of this “promising young writer who had a passion for art and animals.” I stop in my musings—I'm promising. Egotistical as it may be, that's the biggest compliment I could receive from someone regarding my future profession. Promising. The word rings in my mind like a dainty silver bell. Beautiful, small, promising in its own right.

"I have to write this down," she says to herself. "I have to write this down, I'm promising, after all."
She runs the lines several times through her head, then reluctantly clicks on the bedside lamp—half afraid of the sudden burst of light scattering her thoughts and chasing away the sudden inspiration. Only after convincing herself of the danger of her cluttered floor does she give in.

She rushes downstairs, smoothly, in that ridiculous way she has when she's trying to hold a piece of work in her mind, as though the slightest jostling or wrong movement could shake it out of grasp, eternally lost in the cavern of her mind. She fumbles slightly in the dark, still new to this home. Her fingers gently come in contact with the hard, cool plastic of her laptop. She tucks it under her arm and jumps idly up the stairs to dump her thoughts onto paper and out of her mind.

Monday, March 18, 2013

I'm a Published Writer!

Typically, Craigslist is not known for their legit job listings...or legit...anything. Don't get me wrong, I've found a couple of great jobs on there before, but I can't tell you how many scams I've had to wade through to find that diamond in the marshes of shit and spam. This time, though, it was different!

Since I've moved to Kentucky, finding a job has been priority "numero uno," as they say somewhere sometimes I think. After an hour or so of mucking about in the Office/Admin job listings, I poked about for S & Gs in the Writing Gigs section. "Calling Fellow Nerds" it read. "What's this?" I thought to my little self, "I'M a nerd! I love nerd stuff!" It was advertising a new website--set to drop this spring--that was specifically centered around nerd stuff of every type and interest. Science, comics, anime, video games, it's covering it all!

Somewhat warily, I wrote back. Writing about what I love, with a dedicated audience? It just sounded too good to be true.

But you guise! It was totally legit! And they totally want me to write for them! Me! Meeeeee!

I met up with the guy starting the site at the Lexington Comic Con this past weekend, then wrote a review for the Con and sent it to him that night. He posted it on Facebook as a note and so far the article is doing pretty well.

The website is www.thenerdybomb.com, and it drops this spring. Thus begins my career as a professional writer!

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Cross Country, Baby!

After years of living the Portlandia lifestyle in a somewhat begrudging manner (no, I do NOT own skinny jeans, and I cannot fathom embracing veganism--even a little bit), I decided to pack up my shit and move to Lexington, Kentucky.

Really, most of this decision had been based on two qualifying factors: 1. I had been working full-time, going to school part-time and nursing my seemingly chronically ill animals back to health on and off again for upwards of 3 years now, and 2. My aunt had generously offered to let me move into the upstairs of her new home, thus providing financial security and a break from the daily grind of "just getting by."

So, I threw my shit into a portable storage unit, shipped it off to my aunt's front door, and threw my 2 cats, 2 dogs, cousin, myself and several suitcases into the back of my Hyundai Accent Hatchback, and started my sixth move in the past three years.

Oh, the dreams I had of the open road! I had traveled cross country once before, but this time we were taking historic Route 66 for much of our trip, and that excited me considerably. California windmills! Sunshine! Quaint mom-and-pop shops! Tacky little roadside attractions with even tackier little souvenirs to remember them by! Diners and people and countryside in the heart of America itself! Even the crappy little dingy truck stop restrooms with fully-stocked condom machines and near-empty hand soap dispensers!

Unfortunately, when you have to travel 3,000 miles in 3 1/2 days, pretty much the only one of these wonders you get to truly experience is the bathrooms. Condom dispensers lose their flash after a while, no matter how many different colors/ribbing styles they offer. By the end of the trip, my dogs looked beyond spiritually beaten, I had the rumpled, unsavory look of a perpetual trucker, and my cats had taken to flipping their litterbox upside down and shitting in their kennel (read: cell of relentless captivity). Even the stray dog at the gas station rejected my attempts at a good deed: he stole my bag of Beggin' Strips after 10 minutes of luring him close enough to put a leash on him and take him to the local animal shelter. We got the treats back, but I still don't think my dogs ever really forgave me.

I started out this trip with a light, bittersweet heart and a day dream about to come true, and I finished it bitter and smelling of cat piss. But, finally, it's over. My stuff is halfway unpacked, my furniture is moved in, and I hopefully won't have to move again for another 12 billion years--give or take. C'est la vie!