Tuesday, July 7, 2015

The Road to Good Submissions Is Paved With Text Intentions

I had grand plans to whip some writing into shape yesterday. I was going to be the Jillian Michaels, the Jane Fonda, the Richard Simmons, the Jack LaLanne of manuscript-shapers. Had it all planned out. Had my time budgeted the night before.

Yes, with Genius in Kansas, The Pony at his engineering camp, and Hick at work, I knew I would have a whole day to let my creative juices flow. I might even need a small kiddie pool to catch the overflow of my fertile mind. I planned the time I would arise, the time I would take my medicine, the time I would run to the post office, all the while my literary ingredients simmering on the back burner. Careful to leave a large chunk of uninterrupted time for writing.

The texts started at 6:22 a.m.

I could not go the day, you see, without knowing:

~The IRS updated Genius's tax return information for the first time since March.

~Hick had plans to grill pork steaks for supper.

~Two of The Pony's PEOPLE were at the engineering camp.

~Hick was glad The Pony knew somebody at camp.

~Genius had Chinese for lunch with his Garmin team.

~Hick wanted vegetables to go with the pork steaks instead of green beans.

~Genius should get his tax refund by the end of the week.

~A random picture of SpongeBob's Sandy, sent by The Pony.

~The Pony was mistaken for a counselor.

~The Chinese lunch in Olathe is the exact same price as the Chinese lunch in college town.

~The Pony had corn dogs for lunch.

~The Pony was doing an activity.

~Hick gets a shot at 4:30.

Oh, and a phone call, too. Hick was leaving work right then for his appointment.

I can't imagine why I didn't get more done. A phone call and 20 texts. That's not going to stop a real writer, is it? I must admit, I normally leave my cell phone upstairs when I go to my dark basement lair. But with The Pony two hours away at camp, I thought I would keep it with me for emergency notifications.

The emergency is that Val is not making progress on her writings!


  1. They should all be chanting "Victorian, Victorian, Victorian" as you attempt to exercise your writing skills. (see what I did there with a Seinfeld reference?" I can't believe you left that out!

    1. I think you have stumped me. Unless it had something to do with old man Izzy Mandelbaum, or with marathoner Jean-Paul.

    2. Izzy's family chanted Mandlebaum, Mandlebaum, Mandlebaum as the son tried to lift the hospital TV. (something like that.)

    3. Okay, that's just a half stump. I had a Mandelbaum.

  2. As the saying goes: no one wants to write but everyone wants to have written.

  3. Yo have clamoring fans, holding their breath until your next story comes out, so you need to ignore the texts whenever possible.

    Unless Hick texts you with an incredible find at the auction that you can't resist and can't ignore. I wonder what that would be...

    1. Hick's incredible find would have to be a shop that will take him to do odd jobs during the day, after we are both...wait for it...here it comes...in just 10 short months...RETIRED! That's me, of course. He'll have to work until the end of the year instead of May.

  4. But you can't ignore the texts without reading them. I have steadfastly refused texting ability on my smartphone.

    1. I despise texts. And that smart-alecky Autocorrect, which takes the simplest words, and overrides them in favor of something exotic and most often naughty, and you don't catch them until it is already sent, and then there's no putting THAT genie back in the bottle!