|Music: Hand in my pocket - Alanis Morissette|
I love Alanis Morisette. I have to make a mental note to pick up her latest CD, which is an acoustic version of her 1995 hit, Jagged little pill. I think it was 1995 anyway. I was a freshman in college that year. How time seems to fly. It certainly doesn't feel like ten years ago. Yesterday evening, I was sitting in front of the computer in a writer's chat over at Writers Chat when I had this urge to get up and go down to the pool for a quick swim. So I said my good-bye's and left the room to do just that. Sitting there in the pool, some thoughts came to me. I'm usually more of a homebody. I don't get out much. My days and nights are spent in front of this computer typing away on this or that. I have a lot of stories in the fire at the moment. I'm just not sure where to submit them all. I write the story, and then it sits there unless I have a market in mind when I write it. If I submit it there, and it is rejected, I'm left to think on where to submit next. Sometimes my stories can sit on my hard drive wasting away. I think that is why I tried to organize things the other night. Maybe it'll get the stories actually back out there. They aren't doing anything on my hard drive but sitting there.
Well, sitting there in the pool, the thought came to me that since I've begun writing by hand some, I can go off and write elsewhere for a bit during the day. About a half mile from my house there is a small park next to the elementary school. I worked at the school for a bit years ago. I figured I could find a table, spread out some stuff, turn on my walk man, and write for a bit. In the process, I'd be getting out of the house, getting some exercise with the walk, and hopefully get some work done. If not writing, I have an idea notebook, the latest writing book I'm reading or some articles to read.
Well, today I did just that. After turning in my review of last night's episode of Queer as Folk, I made my way out the door and down to this park. Began writing, and a man came up to me. On my way there, the news of the Michael Jackson verdict coming in broke, so the man wanted my opinion on that. We talked for a bit, and then he asked me what I was working on. I explained to him I was a writer, and he tells me he writes poetry, and sold a few of his poems. We struck up a conversation in the middle of the park. It was interesting, and I did get a page written. The weather is hot here. Above hundred temps everyday, so I figure a page was good enough. I packed up and left. I think I might end up doing this a couple of days a week, maybe three. I'll have to see how hot it is. No way I'm sitting outside in 117 heat.
To those interested in my review of this week's episode of Queer as Folk, you can find that here.