I've written that into scenes myself, before.

Does it ever stop feeling like fic? Cause now, I'm not straight-up ficcing as such, but it feels like I'm ficcing different people now. Lehane, David Simon, Sue Grafton, well, it still feels like doing impressions.Maybe I have to keep it that way to avoid that "What if I clutch and my dreams crash and burn?" thing.

Yup, "desserts" was wordplay. Words are fun to play with.

And everyone's doing great stuff.

I pace the hallways, back and forth, my dress shoes scuffing the tiled school floor. Rehearse the words I know so well, the phrases I wrote to interest, to impress.

The student before me leaves the room, relieved to be done but annoyed at his gaffs.

A sneak peek in the window, to look at the judges, judging my predecessor as they will judge me.

I shiver. I moan. I wait.

The door opens, "We're ready when you are," and the butterfies in my stomach threaten to escape out my mouth as I smile, shake hands, and prepare to speak.

I just got my first form rejection letter (from an agent). It hurts a lot more than the personalized kind.

Aww, Susan. Sorry to hear it.

t melodramatic temper tantrum

When will anyone recognize MY GENIUS??? WHEN??? WHEN???

A form letter to ME? Don't they know who I am....er...who I will be some day, as soon as the world recognizes MY GENIUS?

t /melodrama

They will all kneel and beg to kiss your pinky ring one day.

In other news, I've insent you, wrt:freelance work from months and months ago. Sorry for being totally off the ball!

Thanks, Liese! I'll look over what you sent and get back to you--probably not tonight, because I'm coordinating a wedding tomorrow and am scrambling to do all the chores I normally do on Saturday, but tomorrow evening or Sunday at the latest.

Yup, no problem. I don't expect even a freelancer to put in weekend hours just for me! (Although I clearly still am, because I took a nap this afternoon when I shoulda been working. Ah, the benefits of self-employment.)