Ramblings from the Desert

The man who trades freedom for security does not deserve nor will he ever receive either. ~Benjamin Franklin

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Location: New Mexico

Author of the urban fantasy novel, The Music of Chaos, and the paranormal romance, The Canvas Thief.

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

God, I Love Snark

What you won't see in this blog: Cute stories about my kids* and the adorable things they do. Sweet and harmless (and gormless) shit about the weather, grocery shopping, hairdresser appointments, and "Desperate Housewives." (My kids have four legs and while quite cute, thank you very much, are more interesting when they're doing something rotten. I cut my own hair.)

I'm not a Nice Girl. I'm a Bitch. And I say not-nice things about everything. This being not-quite-nine 'oclock, I'm feeling extra bitchy.

But not terribly clever.

So I'm revisiting Beth Bernobich's "Secret Diaries." My favourites are from the "Clueless Newbie" entries. Scary thing is, I've run into this type of writer via blog hopping. "Oh, poor me, the evil publishing establishment doesn't understand my great art. All editors are evil."

Uh-huh. Everybody is evil in some way. Get used to it, sweetie. It's called Life.

Anyway, a sample entry...

Day 8:

Wrote opening paragraphs. Totally kick ass!

It was hot. So hot that it was burning them, and everyone, so they changed the color of there skin and became dark skinned, not as dark as people in Africa but darker than the ones in India. They were in the DryLands. This is a dessert like the Gobi except bigger and hotter and dryer. But no camels, because this is on a planet with no animals. Only plants and insects, and the leaves are blue instead of green. And the sky is green instead of blue. Because this is a different planet out in another solar system many many years from now.

Bears a startling resemblance to some things I've encountered while critiquing. Really gotta pity editors and slush readers.

This round of bitterness and vitriol brought to you by the lack of a shower and the early hour. Shuffling off to make self less stinky.

Cheers, P.K.

(*Re: cute kids--Cute is in the eye of the beholder. Unless I know you and your children well--ya'll know who you are--I find kid stories less interesting than watching paint dry.)


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