I didn't plan to mention it, but what the hell.

[channonyarrow]

It was another fun-filled and productive day today. I am apparently sinking back into depression slightly. I base that on the fact that I spent most of the day reading Little Women (backwards, don't ask me why), playing Solitaire, reading Survivor, and eating cookies.

However, I would rather have an answering machine that just shouts "NO!" than an actual job. Particularly not a job doing data entry for medical billing across town. But pretty quick I'm going to be telling them that my availability is 3:00 pm to 3:15 pm on alternate Thursdays.

Got a rejection from Leading Edge. Based on the comments included in their reviews, I am pleased by this fact. I don't know much about publishing, but I do know that I don't want to publish at a magazine where they don't know what a fairly common word and one that only has one meaning in context is; where they consider the relationship between the main character and the father to be a normal love/hate relationship (abuse isn't normal, actually); and where they ask what the point I am trying to get across with the story is (believe me, I had several people read it cold and they got it, and they're not editors). I mean, seriously. I state the point, rather than simply alluding to it.

The point? Hubris is WRONG.

So I promptly got pissed and have decided to submit to some of the most difficult markets in the country. Not that I, er, could use a lesson in hubris and its wrongness. Or, you know, anything.

It's pretty straight forward.

Also, I found a new Pulp song today that I did not suspect I had.

EDIT: I also have a hopefully interesting essay coming up. Maybe this weekend. Apparently, I'm doing website work this weekend. A lot of it.

I, um, am just trying to satisfy my need that not everything I post be boring-ass recountings of my day. Because my days are boring in the extreme. So either I'll put up an essay or I'll make shit up and see if anyone notices. And if I have to, I'll fall back on Cheneyquiddick jokes.

EDIT TO THE POWER OF EDIT FOR lzz and hilarityallen:
Dear Subconscious:

I DO NOT FANCY LUCIUS MALFOY AT ALL, AND PARTICULARLY NOT LIKE THAT.

Comments

[hilarita.livejournal.com]

You do. You know you do. ;)

[channonyarrow.livejournal.com]

...know you do not, yeah, I know that. *g*

There's just something sort of creepy about Lucius leering at one.

[lzz.livejournal.com]

I think you need to tell us what your subconscious has been up to.

[channonyarrow.livejournal.com]

Um...it was intense. Disturbingly so, really.

Hey, my sleeping mind characterises Lucius beautifully!

[40hex.livejournal.com]

I, um, am just trying to satisfy my need that not everything I post be boring-ass recountings of my day.

I actually posted a few days ago saying I needed to do just that; instead of boring-ass links to stories about government malfeasance.

We should swap places. :)

[channonyarrow.livejournal.com]

Do I have to play cricket with any competency whatsoever? Or even comment on it?

[40hex.livejournal.com]

No, not unless we do a body swap thing too :)

I don't think you'd like being a wicketkeeper... it's frequently painful.

[channonyarrow.livejournal.com]

It's freezing cold here (literally). Why would I not want to do a bodyswap? I wasn't born to freeze.

...dammit, I think I just gave away all my cunning plans.

[justaskfirst.livejournal.com]

I've had a lesson in humility recently, too. It was enlightening.

Great icon.

[channonyarrow.livejournal.com]

I wish I could have one of those. This was like a lesson in non-humility. I think when I die, I'll wind up in the special hell.

I hope yours was only enlightening and not painful.

[aimlesscoyote.livejournal.com]

Hmmmm, Leading Edge sounds like a real quality publication!

[channonyarrow.livejournal.com]

It's listed in Writer's Market as a consumer magazine, iirc, so I was pretty surprised by that. I mean, a rejection from anywhere is one thing (and obviously it's harder when you're new) but a rejection that indicates that they don't bring that many skills to reading what you've written is entirely another.

[aimlesscoyote.livejournal.com]

Exactly. It's like being cracked in the knees by a paraplegic.