No you don’t know me. Well, maybe you do. I write this blog. It’s about life, four cats, and stupid people – all the things people aren’t writing about because of the Donald Trump distraction. Maybe the Donald fits in one of those after all.
I know your offspring Lilly Pulitzer. At least I am familiar with her prints. Fun colors!
No? You never heard of my blog? Too bad. There are lots of good reads there. I can send you a link.
Ok, can I have your email address?
Hello? Hello? Mr. Pulitzer, are you there?
This is a dream I had. Just me and Mr. Pulitzer on the phone. (He’s not alive but it doesn’t matter in a dream!)
It made my day. Somehow I felt this personal connection. It was a sign. I had a sense that something good was coming my way. (I had a stomach virus but I was thinking something BETTER!)
Many of you are writers – the kind that get published somewhere other than WordPress. My hats off to you. I started a book four years ago. I changed the entire genre from a business book (boring!) to one similar to my blog with humorous life stories.
I had trouble getting it started. I was able to write a dedication page, then a table of contents. That’s when I got stumped.
I can write 600 words about nothing lickety split but the idea of lots more words that make sense throws me off. (It’s the “make sense” part that’s the problem, not writing them.)
It’s the old “getting started” thing.
Yesterday I submitted some pieces for publication. I heard that no one takes you seriously until you get 600 rejections. I thought I’d better get started on that. I should have accumulated all the rejections by the time I have finished my first chapter. (I may be in the nursing home at that point. That’s far better than at the undertaker!)
It’s not that I procrastinate.
I think. A lot. About nothing. At least nothing that will go into a book.
But yesterday, I finally came up with a plan that I like.
We’ll see if it goes away with my virus. Stay tuned.
I wonder if I can channel Erma Bombeck….