And then a bird crapped on my head.
I started to laugh.
It must be Wednesday.
* * *
I have two links for you today. I'm not connecting you to anything I haven't mentioned already, but both are posts on other blogs that I found particularly compelling.
The first is an article by I Should Be Writing's Mur Lafferty entitled The "Job" of Writing, in which that most esteemed internet authoress takes on that inexplicable resistance many of us have to the other half of the job of writing; that is, to selling ourselves, hawking our wares, and getting our words out into the world. A lot of us seem to think (and I think all of us seem to wish) that our books and short stories will magically appear on the shelves of bookstores everywhere - and that money will magically appear in our bank accounts. Mur takes us to task, reminding us that writing is only half the job of being a writer, and the other half is getting our writing seen.
The second is a post by The Rejecter in which she takes on a particularly egregious literary snob. Tear 'em apart, Rejecter!
I present these two links in part because I feel that they represent the heart of the Burning Zeppelin Experience - if not the heart, at least some other important internal organ, like the kidney or the spleen - shameless self promotion and genre pride.
See you tomorrow.
I have two links for you today. I'm not connecting you to anything I haven't mentioned already, but both are posts on other blogs that I found particularly compelling.
The first is an article by I Should Be Writing's Mur Lafferty entitled The "Job" of Writing, in which that most esteemed internet authoress takes on that inexplicable resistance many of us have to the other half of the job of writing; that is, to selling ourselves, hawking our wares, and getting our words out into the world. A lot of us seem to think (and I think all of us seem to wish) that our books and short stories will magically appear on the shelves of bookstores everywhere - and that money will magically appear in our bank accounts. Mur takes us to task, reminding us that writing is only half the job of being a writer, and the other half is getting our writing seen.
The second is a post by The Rejecter in which she takes on a particularly egregious literary snob. Tear 'em apart, Rejecter!
I present these two links in part because I feel that they represent the heart of the Burning Zeppelin Experience - if not the heart, at least some other important internal organ, like the kidney or the spleen - shameless self promotion and genre pride.
See you tomorrow.
1 comment:
Doesn't being crapped on by a bird make you royalty in some culture?
Ganbarre on the writing!
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