Saturday, November 9, 2013

Publishing, Pancakes, & Payne

Day two of my blog.

Today, well, a little past midnight, I checked my email and found a lovely rejection letter. This marks the first since I started this poetry-publishing gig. I write poetry for fun, but the publishing part is still very new to me—I’ve only attempted three times this year. So far, I have one rejection, one acceptance, and one stuck in limbo. Since I’ve been on writing sites for over a decade, and entering into contests on them, I’ve become very familiar with rejection. Because of my determination and support from various people, I woke around 5:30 this morning and start looking for other places to attempt publication. After finding a few, I decided I would attempt them later, and slept for another two hours.

I woke up when my sister’s Chihuahua started licking my face, which was actually a very sweet awakening. The family cat (though I love him dearly, the lazy furball) just comes in and knocks my stuff over to get in the window. I chatted a bit with two of my sisters, Sherry and Natalie, and teased Austin, Sherry’s hubby, about his watch, because he said it cost $90 and could do a whole slew of things. I asked if it could check the temperature and he said it could check his, since it was around his wrist. This, of course, led to me asking, “Why don’t you wrap it around a tree branch?” I value those who can handle my teasing, then return with their own.

After they left, I made breakfast. I love peanut butter on my pancakes. I don’t know why. I just do. I’m not much of a cook, but I can do pancakes, pudding, meatloaf, and—well, let’s face it, that’s just about all I can cook. I can read boxes or Google other stuff, but I’m not an extraordinaire about anything, much less being creative with cooking, and knowing how to use each spice. Because I am notorious for daydreaming, or getting lost in the lyrics of a song while doing something, I consider it a miracle that I haven’t burnt down the kitchen.

I have been playing “Max Payne 3” with my dad. I am a sore loser, I’ll admit. I don’t like to lose, much less get killed over and over and over. I have a tendency to “get into” things because I find something interesting—or worth raging about—in everything I do, especially videogames.

On a writerly note, I hope that I’m able to complete 1,900 words today for NaNo.

We shall see. 

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