My first attempt came out kind of coded and personal. Maybe I should have tried "bad luck instead"

I first saw the blue girl at a party. Literally across a smoke filled room she was. She was ruffled and mascaraed. I was ripped-jeaned and safety-pinned. I don’t recall if I worked up the courage to talk to her that night. Some day I did. Or went out of my way to shop at the record store where she worked. Then one day like clouds parting she told me she had seen me across that room too. But all things pass. Absence doesn’t always work the way you’d expect. She’s that blue woman now. Drifting away into the blue.

Laga, I like it. Coded and personal or not it seems pretty clear what is going on and what it means to you. Sure part of the story is in the shadows, but that is the nature of three dimensional writing. Only flat writing, writing without perspective gives you ever detail, every motive, every meaning.

Deena asked me for a couple of more stories for Drollerie in as quick as time as I can manage. This is utterly unknown territory for me--original work quickly that I'm not ashamed to put my name to.

At the beginning of the year I made a sort of promise to myself that 2007 would be the year I'd find out if I had the chops to work as a writer to any kind of professional level. Then Drollerie appeared. I'm very proud of myself for getting myself out of my rut and daring to put original work out there. Now the bar's been nudged higher, and both my pride and my promises will hurt me if I don't deliver. The writing demons keep telling me that previous work was a fluke, that I had access to the Scroll of Universal Understanding and won't be able to produce something good without serendipitous inspiration.

I now understand even better why thrilling is not always a happy-joy-joy thing, and anticipation leads to bitten down nails.

Hee. That's awesome, connie. Your writing is not a fluke. You'll be able to do it. You're a damned fine writer.

Besides, artists do their best work when they are scared for their lives. (I'm paraphrasing Slings & Arrows )

Any advice about writing my first music review? Because I might be, soon, and though my big mouth got me into it, I'm not sure I can really do it. I'm just not in a position not to take assignments.

Any advice about writing my first music review? Because I might be, soon, and though my big mouth got me into it, I'm not sure I can really do it. I'm just not in a position not to take assignments.

The only advice I've got is that you should totally cross-post this with Music (unless you have already), 'cause there are a couple of music-writerly folks there who come in here rarely to never.

Also, assignments are good! Congrats!

Not yet. I totally don't feel cool enough to come in there.

Nobody starts out cool. First you pretend you're cool by carefully studying the habits of the Truly Cool, then you become Cool by doing things that only cool people do, and later after you're SO Very Cool, you can tell about how you really weren't cool when you started out, you were just ballsing your way through it, which is, of course, Very Cool.

I really need to take my brain out and slap it around some. I've got two stories requested, and all my brain is doing is dithering. I just caught myself surfing the Writer's Digest site looking at their bookstore, falling into the trap that "there's a book out there that will tell me how to do this." I do know this shit already! I read stories I've written, and part of me can't believe that I created that, part of me says, "Huh, well, that's a fluke if ever I saw it." I read comments on other pieces to try and convince myself that it's talent/skill/a gift no one's going to take away, but Idiot Jed locks down when I open the screen.

I wonder if it's a case of not being able to write at home. Too many distractions, too many stressors. Work is the place where I'm powerful, in control, competent.

Words of encouragement aren't going to do it. Somebody smack me/my muse (metaphorically, please! Though if you want to come visit personally, welcome!) in the head and say, "Enough with the self-pity, write, already."