My coworkers hear it all the time and are profoundly uninterested me: Okay, this isn't going to work. I have these characters drinking tea again. They need to do something else immediately. These words are chopped. Two hundred gone. And let's see, the confrontation is coming up soon. Any suggestions? also me: Oh. My. God. Why bother? No one reads your books. No one thinks they're anything more than adequate. You can't seem to change your style to fit what people want. You're old news. OLD. NEWS. Stale old voice. There's no point in writing yet another book that no one will wants-- me: How about if they finally talk instead of just hinting around? Yeah, and maybe that guy will say what's been on his mind since chapter two. also me: Jesus. So boring. Talk, talk, talk. You know that your-- me: How about if they-- also me: --you know your books are worthless because people want conflict and angst. They don't want to read another book wit...
It's hard out here for a pimp, ain't it?
ReplyDelete*adjusts feather in big-ass purple hat*
Okay, Selah, I owe you thanks. At long last I get the reason I'm rotten in pimping. I need to work on some image stuff ASAP. We're talking Pimp Disaster Zone:
ReplyDeleteI drive a silver Honda Civic (motto: we won't stop making these until everyone in suburbia owns one)
My only hat is a Bosnian knit cap.
My fanciest footwear is a pair of beat-up, second-hand timberland boots.
OBVIOUSLY
I need to work on the bad-ass issue, pronto. Where'd you get that hat and that attitude, anyway?
I nicked 'em from Caridad Ferrer.
ReplyDeleteSeriously.
I believe you and I wonder if she has any spare Glamor and 'tude left.
ReplyDeletesigh.
The Glamor I'ma not so sure about, although I'll bet there's a pimp hat or two wandering about. The 'tude I've been told I have in abundance. Over, even. *g*
ReplyDeleteFeel free to filch at will.