Reality Check
At my mother's house, I have now been moved to the upstairs bedroom and the shower there reminds me of a scene from a house in France where the lead actress is surprised by her boyfriend and they go on. But in reality, I'm staying in the study where the separate bathroom has a shower head of fury blasting needles into your skin screaming when you touch it.
I have been busy with events so I never had the chance to write, I was learning about the marketing world and meeting people to help me move further in life. But in reality, I went to an Astrologist to look at my stars because I needed reassurance after the latest fall. I've been reading contracts and planning stories but not actually going out. Today is the day I got to a Literary Ladies Lunch-in and honestly I'm nervous. I don't even have my glasses here because of a late night concert and car confusions.
I have no idea what to say. Last night, I went to a concert alone --lost my friends --and four gay men befriended me. I say this because they clearly told me and helped be get closer the whole night. They promised to buy my book too, maybe they'll stumble on this and read my thank-you? In reality though, I will stumble into the lunch-in and try to explain my vision without looking like a quitter for self-publishing. There's a whole story.
I really did email agents hoping they would look into my book. For countless hours I researched their previous works. But in reality, I did most of my work when I smoked a bowl and did so while researching. Damn, what if I'm doing it now?
I'm kidding of course. But think about Alice from my book? All she does is smoke, party, and fuck random boys. How can an author know so much without every trying? I'm writing about people my age too. In the original manuscript they were under 18. What if I'm Alice and I never changed? Would people look at me differently since I admitted it was my rehab?
I look much older than I really am so it might be awkward if a lady offers me a Mimosa --relying on my culture's method --and I say my age. That is the reality. I'm not grown-up yet. I can't impress them with college degrees. I can only show them my spirit and sell them my story. I want to be in Marketing, so I want to start now and then sell for publishing.
I have been busy with events so I never had the chance to write, I was learning about the marketing world and meeting people to help me move further in life. But in reality, I went to an Astrologist to look at my stars because I needed reassurance after the latest fall. I've been reading contracts and planning stories but not actually going out. Today is the day I got to a Literary Ladies Lunch-in and honestly I'm nervous. I don't even have my glasses here because of a late night concert and car confusions.
I have no idea what to say. Last night, I went to a concert alone --lost my friends --and four gay men befriended me. I say this because they clearly told me and helped be get closer the whole night. They promised to buy my book too, maybe they'll stumble on this and read my thank-you? In reality though, I will stumble into the lunch-in and try to explain my vision without looking like a quitter for self-publishing. There's a whole story.
I really did email agents hoping they would look into my book. For countless hours I researched their previous works. But in reality, I did most of my work when I smoked a bowl and did so while researching. Damn, what if I'm doing it now?
I'm kidding of course. But think about Alice from my book? All she does is smoke, party, and fuck random boys. How can an author know so much without every trying? I'm writing about people my age too. In the original manuscript they were under 18. What if I'm Alice and I never changed? Would people look at me differently since I admitted it was my rehab?
I look much older than I really am so it might be awkward if a lady offers me a Mimosa --relying on my culture's method --and I say my age. That is the reality. I'm not grown-up yet. I can't impress them with college degrees. I can only show them my spirit and sell them my story. I want to be in Marketing, so I want to start now and then sell for publishing.
Do I say I'm too young or not old enough?
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