Sunday, February 22, 2009

I shot my mother in the heart with a poisoned dart when I called myself a fraud

I had a cup of tea and a good lie down after that last post. I always go all Holden Caulfield while writing a first draft. Also in the period between sending it off and waiting for a response. Thoughts of terrible grammer, pretentious ideas and flowery language fly through my head as I wait for the call that says 'Sorry, but what is this horseshit? '

The story is filed and it's all fine.

Poor Mum got a bit upset though.

Theres a Seinfeld episode where Jerry talks about somebody not liking him. His mother is horrified. 'Not like you, Jerry? How could anybody not like you, Jerry?' she shrieks. 'How is that even possible?'

This is exactly what my mum is like.

I hope to be just the same.

1 comment:

  1. Every time I submit a piece, I think my phone's going to ring and it will be a client telling me that my services are no longer required. I'm honestly surprised every time they follow up with more work. It's not modesty - just sheer, unadulterated paranoia.


Thanks for talking to me. I don't got cooties. Oh, except for when I got cooties.