So I got a bug up my butt. No, it's not a hygiene issue, but I can definitely understand what brought you to that conclusion. A while back, I promised myself that I would write a story specifically with publishing in mind. I set a deadline and I met that deadline.
But I failed to take into account the most painstaking part of writing--the editing. If writing is like letting creativity flow freely from my brain to create a wonderful work of art, editing is like taking that creativity and curbstomping it...then lighting it on fire, laughing at it and, finally, pouring sugar in its gas tank.
But I finally bit the bullet and did some editing. I don't feel it really needed all that much, so I got off lucky. But I also feel really good because, now, I can hopefully try to get it published. We'll see what comes of it.
I'm getting the urge to write again. I had a good story idea pop into my head during one of my runs. Hopefully I'll get to that soon, and it'll be as good as I think it will be.
In two weeks I am running a half-marathon. I ran it last year without much training and while I was on the tail end of a cold. I feel I am much better prepared this year and I'm really jazzed about it. I doubt I would work so hard to stay in shape if I didn't have something to work toward. Well, maybe if someone dangled a plate of Hot Wings in front of me and made me run towards it...yeah, that would definitely get me running. But once I finally caught up, I'd probably beat the person who taunted me. That would also be good exercise.
I didn't watch the Syfy movie this week--it was something about living lightning...looked suitably bad. Instead I listened to my beloved Mizzou Tigers almost lose to the Bowling Green Somethingorothers. The Tigers won, mind you...but it was not a stellar performance. The game was kind of like two dudes falling off a building...and one grabs the other to use as a cushion. Not pretty. Not pretty at all, I assure you.
Then we smashed our shit