Writing Down the Tubes

Posted to the wrong blog. This was for my writing blog, Suck It Up. Oh well, maybe Marcel would understand about the writing angst and the snobbery. Actually, it's not even snobbery, it's the icy New England soul which never warms up. Brrrrrr!


So. . . a few more queries to send out, concentrating on World of Mirrors, since foreign settings seem to be pretty hot and due to Lives Of Others, maybe agents know who the Stasi are, and so on. Last feedback is that no one likes my character. I made her kind of in your face and not a shrinking violet. She's made some mistakes but she's trying to get on the right track. I dunno, I dunno. I have my new synopsis and we'll see what happens, if anything. I have an ace in the hole (I think), which I will play after 100, count 'em, 100 rejections. Quite a ways to go.

After a visist to the Norfolk County Jail, I found out that Festival Madness had a few errors in the jail visit scene, so I corrected those. Nothing beats research and the horse's mouth. Nothing.

Had lots of non-writing "stuff" this week. Doing a daily walk or a health club visit. I have noticed that no one at the health club, so called wellness (that word sets my teeth of edge) is very friendly. The staff exhibit what I consider a false heartiness, like someone who has been drilled to speak to you when you come in the door, whether they want to or not, and it's usually or not. Somehow, one can tell.

But that sugary sucking up pales beside the patrons. I don't think I've had more than one or two friendly smiles in 3 years. I've sort of given up smiling in return. Is this because it's the Boston area? Is fitness such a damned serious thing that requires total concentration and grimness? I don't think so. Nobody smiles. Nobody laughs. Sober faces all. God, it's depressing. The trainers seem to be bored out of their minds unless a studly guy gets a gorgeous girl which doesn't happen all that often. I'd find another club but the last one wasn't very congenial either.

When we were in Georgia earlier in the winter, of course everyone spoke and acted friendly (genuinely so) and it's always kind of a culture shock. It takes me a while to be friendly in return after New England's icy demeanor.

Cell phones are in theory banned, and everyone yaks on in the women's dressing room. I can't begin to describe the triteness of the conversations I've overheard. Right up there with those in the grocery store. "I'm standing by the produce."

Enough grumping for one day. Maybe even the week. Smile a bit. Say hello. Like you mean it. What have you got to lose?

Grapeshot