My big new writing life feels like it's been carelessly washed then stuffed into a too-hot dryer. I have to squeeze into it now and it looks like hell. Tight with a muffin top. Indecently short.
I've had ideas. My index card notebook is riddled with one-liners. I come home, set my satchel on my desk and slide the notebook from its pocket while my laptop purrs to life. I check my email. And then I write long responses to my attorneys. I open my
Big D. file and pull things out, checking facts and figures and dates. I rifle through my file cabinet, and before I know it there are a half-dozen folders on the floor. The attorneys want account numbers, information about checks I've written, another list of all my assets. How much I spend....and how much I make. How much I make?? It's called alimony, remember? We went to court
together to get it. But really, it's okay if you forgot. It was 3 years and 4 months ago. A long time, yes?
Imagine all this work put into my novel, selling my memoir manuscript, or a new short story.
But wait. I've exchanged hundreds and hundreds of emails with my attorneys. There's got to be a book in that, right?
3 comments:
"The never ending road to Hades"? "How to bury a dead love and a live attorney?" Your writing is waiting like a rose under the snow. Once all the mundane stupidity that you could have never bargained for will go away, you will be able to pay attention to what really counts.
The King of Ego could never accept not to be present in your life on his own terms. So he delays and delays what is decent and proper because a) he doesn't know how to do something decently and properly,i.e: to end 30 years of marriage in a dignified and honest manner. And b) because by stretching this to death, he is not really out of your life.
Clever little man. Despicable, but clever.
If anyone could do it, Denise, you could. Perhaps a play? The word verification was "basted" and I'm thinking 1)your words, basted with love and creativity 2)your ex, basted with acid 3)your lawyers, basted with efficiency
Well, now this is silly. I'm sending metta your way.
Oh yes, this is a book, somewhere between a memoir and a manual. I would buy/read it...
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