Writer Rant: Writing Advice

Writer Rant: Writing Advice

“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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Flowers for Rasmenia

Flowers for Rasmenia

All right, then... it's been almost 6 months since we moved into this house and lost the luxury of a home Internet connection. Now we finally have it again and I can actually refer to an Internet connection at home as a luxury, rather than a necessity.Okay, maybe I really don't believe that. I NEED the Internet. I absolutely need an endless supply of baby animal videos and 10 different columns of nonstop gibberish on Twitter. I require endless stream of commentary on current events to keep me up-to-date and a steady torrent of jingoist YouTube videos on my Facebook news feed to remind me to be patriotic. I MUST have IMDB handy every time I'm watching a movie and can't remember where I've seen that actor's face before. I fucking NEED Wikipedia to be there every time I have the slightest question about every trivial event or mysterious fruit I happen upon in the produce section.These things are IMPORTANT.Well,...
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Displaced & Disconnected

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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No Shower = Idiot Repellant

One thing I really cannot stand is a ringing doorbell or phone while I'm eating. The fact that she came to our door as we were sitting in front of the TV stuffing out faces got her off to a really bad start.Olivier answered the door and found her standing there. Without saying "hello" or even introducing herself, she asked him if he spoke English. He told her that he did. For some reason, she continued to speak her shitty French in a German accent.Evidently, a neighbor had told her that Olivier is a professional computer geek. She said that she was in school and needed internet access to finish... I don't know - something for school. She insisted that Olivier come to her apartment and fix her computer so that she could use another neighbor's wireless connection. It was "urgent" she said.First she said that she had internet access, then she didn't. Obviously, this person was lying. My theory...
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