Instead of focusing on all my problems, I decided to spend my Thanksgiving week being thankful. Today, I would like to thank all my past teachers. There’s been a lot of you, over the years. Too many to list. But each of you played a large role in my current and future success. Here is a personal thanks to the ones whose names I remember how to spell:
Thank you, Mrs. Carol (1st grade) for teaching me how to read.
Thank you, Miss Dowd (3rd grade) for teaching me how to spell.
Thank you, Mrs. Reeves (6th grade) for teaching me to love to read.
Thank you, Mrs. Cooper (7th grade history) for dressing up like a pilgrim that one day in class.
Thank you, Coach Putnam (junior high athletics) for inspiring me … and then not killing me when I quit cross-country anyway.
Thank you, Ms. Gaston (junior high band) for teaching me to play the trumpet. I’ll never forget how excited you were when I gained the cordination to play 16th notes while taping my foot to whole notes.
Thank you, Mrs. Flaherty (8th grade art) for letting us make giant Andy Warhol-esque sculptures of everyday objects. I’ll never forget my 4-foot tall matchbox. Also, thanks for partnering me up with the cutest guy!
Thank you, Ms. Ellershaw (home-economics and yearbook) for teaching me how to cook Snickerdoodles and how to crop photos with a manual cropper.
Thank you, Ms. Arnold (freshman college) for teaching me my first words of French.
Thank you, Ms. Baker and Mr. Cure (high school theater) for saving me from a lifetime of Hollywood auditions. Learning that I can’t act in high school paved the way to my current writing joy.
Thank you, Mrs. Hamilton (11th grade, English) for teaching us the symbolism behind the stormy sky in The Scarlet Letter. You also had great scarves.
Thank you, Dr. Tripp (12th grade philosopy) for introducing me to the wold outside the walls of our senses.
Thank you, Mr. Regalado (12th grade photography) for teaching me how to use a darkroom.
Thank you, Ms. Yeatts (college creative writing) for your 1st day of school intro to the difference between literary and popular fiction with the songs “Hallelujah” and “I’m a Believer.”
Thank you, Madame LeCoq (French culture in France) for teaching me NEVER to drink wine in a plastic cup.
Thank you, Paul Morris (creative non-fiction) for teaching me how to live as a writer.
Thank you to all my other professors who may not want to be associated with my website, so you will remain nameless. But thanks for keeping faith in me throughout my long graduate school career.
Actually “she” didn’t. I don’t even know who “she” is. I just love that song.
Instead, I spent last night alternatingly writing and reading the disturbing book Snuff, I put off all my packing till today. If you haven’t heard, I’m going home to Texas for a week for Thanksgiving. My flight departs later this afternoon. It will be quite bizarre to leave this stationary circus known as Vegas. What’s life on the outside like?
Don’t know how my Internet connection will be on the range, but if it works, I will blog for you lovely people. If it doesn’t, be content to know that I’ll be in a turkey daze the whole time.
Often my writing takes me to new and exciting places. Those places usually involve celebrities, foreign travel, free food, or a combination of the three. But tonight, it takes me as far as the kitchen table, where I am typing my little heart out. This is what I signed up for, right? Writing is the very core essence of what it means to be a writer, which is indeed what I yearn to be. If so, then why must I fight the desire to surf the Internet every five minutes?
Right now there are only 872 jobs posted on Media Bistro. And there are 1,761 freelancers looking for gigs on that same site.
Now this is way unscientific because not all freelancers want full-time jobs, but if you do the math, that’s 889 more people than there are jobs! Now this is going to be way more unscientific, but I swear that about a year ago, the jobs on Media Bistro hovered around the 2,000 mark.
Damn the economic downturn! Damn the death of print!
With Stephanie Meyers’ book Twilight now a full-scale pop culture phenomenon, I thought it would be a great excuse to finally use the Polldaddy’s “skull pattern.” Despite the fact that Morman Meyer claims to have never read a vampire book before she wrote her series, her writing still hails from a rich literary tradition of vamps. Lest we forget the people who came before her, I made this fun poll.
The chronicle of an early twenty-something’s attempts to find an agent for her fantasy-satire young adult novel, get a job writing for the black hole of television, and generally navigate the stagnant ocean of her life.
Though I think her posts are a little long for the casual reader, I do think her idea is compelling. So the next time you get sick of me, go and check her out!