Writer Rant: Writing Advice

Writer Rant: Writing Advice

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
“They're fancy talkers about themselves, writers. If I had to give young writers advice, I would say don't listen to writers talking about writing or themselves.” --Lillian Hellman“Know when to tune out, if you listen to too much advice you may wind up making other peoples mistakes.”  --Ann Landers“I always advise people never to give advice.” --P.G. Wodehouse * * * I have a lot of pet peeves. Probably more than a reasonable amount. It's a rare thing when I can watch TV, leave the house, or hop on the Internet without bitching, mocking, making fun of or simply pointing out something that I find annoying or idiotic. (Unless you're reading this blog for the very first time, you already know this.)Often, what I have to do is, I have to stop paying attention to whatever it is that bugs the shit out of me. I must ignore it completely. This isn't always possible. Try ignoring the human race. It's tough. Betcha...
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Displaced & Disconnected

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
We had it all planned out: look at the houses, choose one, buy it, then move into it. Easy enough. Sort of. Olivier & I had both been through the bullshit & hassles of home buying before, though this was the first time we'd be trudging through the muck together.Finding the house took a couple of months of searching. We got up early every weekend to drive an hour away & wandered through some very cold, damp & creepy houses. Oh... & there was that incident involving my urine. Then, some time during the month of February, we found our house.So, we started making plans: we'd sign the papers closing the sale of the house on May 27th. We'd move in on May 30th, since there was a family scheduled to move into our apartment on the 31st."Damn," I said. "That's cutting it awfully close."Hell, of course it was too fucking close. You know what they say about how the...
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Annoying Americans, Volume 1 – Blending In

Annoying Americans, Volume 1 – Blending In

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
There's a strange phenomenon that occurs after living in France even for a very short time.  It's a little odd, but it does happen.It doesn't take very long, but eventually, you can forget how to speak English.Now, don't get the wrong idea.  Maybe what you're thinking is, "Wow...being immersed in the French language can actually push English right out of your brain?"Of course that isn't what I mean.  Don't be asinine.  Besides, what kind of dolt forgets their native language like that?Here's an example:One not so very interesting day, I decided to take my camera & go for a stroll through the Montmartre Cemetery.  I'm all alone & searching for the grave of Degas.  I'm having no luck, so I head back to entrance so that I can take a gander at the map.That's when I saw them.  The four of them were wearing matching T-shirts that read "Paris", all spelled out in glitter.  They were wearing their matching backpacks,...
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2 Countries, 2 Names & Plans for a Life of Crime

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
Not all women change their names after they get married, but I did.Well, sort of. It depends on where you look.All of my paperwork here in France says that I am “Mrs. Massoud.” However, if you take a look at my Colorado driver’s license, my social security card & my passport, Mrs. Massoud is nowhere to be found.Since our 2-year wedding anniversary is coming up next week, it seemed like a good time to finally make some of this shit official.Ugh. Two countries, Two names. Too much of a fucking hassle.The real problem is the fact that my passport is about to expire and armed with only my carte de séjour, I’d only be free to move about the E.U. That might be a bit of a problem should I ever feel like heading home to the states again, which is likely since there isn’t an Arby’s anywhere in France.I did some checking. It seemed that I would have to...
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Cold Medicine Inspires Brilliant Ideas

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
It never fails. If I have nothing to do, no one to see and nowhere to be, I feel great. If I have plenty of things that I have to do, places to go and a busy social calendar, my nose will turn into a snot faucet. My throat will become sore and I will cough up mucous in an endless stream in between violent sneezes.I was sick at my wedding. The last time I went back to Colorado to visit friends and family during Thanksgiving, I had a horribly contagious cold.It never, ever fails.Now that the Hotel Massoud (a.k.a our home) is booked solid from September 7th to September 22nd, I'm all hopped up on cold medicine and have sneezed so much that the cat has made herself scarce, refusing to be in the same room with me.I think Olivier is enjoying this, though. I can barely speak, which means that I cannot effectively piss and moan about anything,...
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