For some reason the spam comments are coming thick and fast.
Laurie McConnell, the Queen WebMistress of all things web-related (otherwise known as Bad Dog Design) has mercifully installed a new filtering plug-in that should clear that up.
Meanwhile, if anyone legitimately commented in the last week or so, I’m sorry, but I went on massive delete mode to rid myself of all comments. I tried to look over most of them, but I might have missed a real one or two. Please feel free to comment again if you don’t see your sentences.
Seriously, do these people actually think I’m going to approve a comment written in surrealistic English that comes from a site for all sorts of wonderful ‘on-sale’ pharmaceuticals? But then, I guess they don’t actually read the blogs that they’re spamming…
On better topics; tomorrow is my writing group. I’m going to bring the piece I wrote last Sunday for the Real Simple writing contest…the one that turns out to only accept American writers…sigh.
However, on the Real Simple website, it mentions that they will also accept these pieces as submissions, just not as part of the contest. That’s fine with me. I’m going to try it that way and see if they might take pity on a Canuck writer who just wanted to win the trip to NYC. I want them to know that payment is just fine. I’m good with that.
I don’t want to jinx anything – but – I think I might have hit on the structure for my memoir…the one that has the equivalent texture of blue jello.
I keep trying to find a way to hold these stories up on something, but the jelloness of it means it just wobbles and slides away and slaps onto the linoleum. It’s felt impossible to pick up, to contain, to do anything with at all.
But last night while lying in a tub full of bergamot scented salts, the idea slid from the back shadowy recesses of my brain and revealed itself. I had to jump into a robe and diagram a plan with arrows and boxes and circles. I kept shutting my eyes to squint at the ideas that kept sliding in and out of view.
Please, oh please, let this plan work.