Isn't that the nice thing about being a writer, though? Blog entries are working. Or at least practicing. Or something.
I must pass on my uncomfortable writing-related moment yesterday. Last night was the first session of the workshop I just signed up for. I had volunteered to bring something in for the first class, so I did. I always feel very weird when I am present while someone is reading something I've written, though, and I assumed I'd be handing out my story at the end of the class. But, no, the teacher had me hand it out half-way through the class. And all the students started reading the first few lines, as is natural.
The problem is that my first sentence is a fairly explicit reference to masturbation. I saw some raised eyebrows. Two women actually made eye contact with each and laughed under their breaths. I really, really wanted to say, "No! It's not just about masturbation! I'm not a pervert!" (What with it being the first class and all.) But I didn't, and I can only hope they read the rest of it soon so they don't labor under the (somewhat incorrect) notion that I am a sexual deviant.
Kimberly, I'm caught. I spend way too much time perusing blogs. I can't remember where I found this, and I should probably give the person credit.
Anonymous Bongo, Arthur Miller is not a God to me, mainly because I'm not a playwrite. I've read and seen him and written a play, but other people are more qualified to write a tribute.
What a great blog. Hope you don't mind if I invite myself back (I won't raid the fridge, but I have a hard time keeping my feet off the furniture). Many thanks for linking to me; it was the cherry on the cake of my day! -- MM of Somewhere on the Masthead
7 comments:
Isn't that the nice thing about being a writer, though? Blog entries are working. Or at least practicing. Or something.
I must pass on my uncomfortable writing-related moment yesterday. Last night was the first session of the workshop I just signed up for. I had volunteered to bring something in for the first class, so I did. I always feel very weird when I am present while someone is reading something I've written, though, and I assumed I'd be handing out my story at the end of the class. But, no, the teacher had me hand it out half-way through the class. And all the students started reading the first few lines, as is natural.
The problem is that my first sentence is a fairly explicit reference to masturbation. I saw some raised eyebrows. Two women actually made eye contact with each and laughed under their breaths. I really, really wanted to say, "No! It's not just about masturbation! I'm not a pervert!" (What with it being the first class and all.) But I didn't, and I can only hope they read the rest of it soon so they don't labor under the (somewhat incorrect) notion that I am a sexual deviant.
That's great. In celebration I send you to this quiz:
Masturbation TechniquesI'm Woody Allen. I'm both lustful and self-lustful.
i'm woody allen too. how do you find these things?
Kimberly, I'm caught. I spend way too much time perusing blogs. I can't remember where I found this, and I should probably give the person credit.
Anonymous Bongo, Arthur Miller is not a God to me, mainly because I'm not a playwrite. I've read and seen him and written a play, but other people are more qualified to write a tribute.
Hey Henry...
Was out of town for Mardi Gras, missed the change in the layout.
Love it! Great attention grabbing colors.
Nice job!
Love your writings as always.
Gary
What a great blog. Hope you don't mind if I invite myself back (I won't raid the fridge, but I have a hard time keeping my feet off the furniture). Many thanks for linking to me; it was the cherry on the cake of my day! -- MM of Somewhere on the Masthead
Thanks for that. I've been in a foul mood lately which is why I haven't been writing. Your comment helps get me back in the spirit.
Thanks too, Gary (American Regression.) I didn't realize you were a regular reader.
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