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Seething Cakes of Hatred

Making pancakes, as I learned at AP's birthday bash at the beach this weekend, is an unbelievably tedious chore. I don't know why I...

Monday, March 22, 2004

Yum Yum Marco spent two and a half hours with me on Saturday discussing my writing and where it can take me. It was an honor to have a writer invest so much of his day that way. I gained valuable insight from Marco and learned a lot about my personal writing style. He pointed out that I seem to do my best work when there is an element of pressure to write combined with the promise of an audience and instant gratification.

Until I found the wonderful world of blogging, I was used to writing and then performing my pieces onstage as monologues, plays or sketches. But we talked a lot about other venues for reading my work, and I'm looking forward to scouting for those opportunities.

Receiving encouragement from another writer is such a motivator. Famous Author Rob Byrnes has encouraged me more than once with a positive comment about my writing. I love reading comments left by people who read Toaster Oven. Comments feed my need for instant gratification. Money would work too, if anybody felt like sending me some. Oh, sex works too if anybody felt like giving me some.

I'm so thankful for people like Rob and Marco who are successful at writing and want to encourage others who are a little "lower on the totem pole" than they are. I don't know why I put Rob on a pedestal, though, because he can't even spell "ciao" correctly.

Bonkers went home yesterday, but I didn't let myself cry until I finished working out. When I completed the last rep of the very last set of my upper body workout, I put the bar into the rack, sat on the bench and let the tears flow. Fortunately, I work out at a private fitness center at the office, so nobody was around to witness it. My house feels so empty without that dog. Last night when I got home, I missed his nose poking through the door to greet me. Maybe I can get juju to start poking her nose through the door when I come home, but I doubt that she will tap dance for me while I make dinner like Bonkers did.

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