Life in progress


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Writing vs. Parenting: A Handy Comparison

Everything is connected.

One of my favorite quotes comes from the illustrious Neil deGrasse Tyson:

We are part of this universe; we are in this universe, but perhaps more important than both of those facts, is that the universe is in us.

The underlying truth? The molecules, the bits and pieces that make you up, were present at the moment of the universe’s creation; they’ve just been rearranged millions of times over to cast you as the imperfect robot that you are. And that means, in a sort of beautiful way, that all things are connected. And if all the things are connected, that means all the things we do are connected.

Here, then, are 11 ways that writing is like parenting, and — more obviously — 11 ways in which they aren’t alike at all. Why 11? Why not just pick the top ten and go with those like a normal, order-conscious human?

Because this list goes to eleven.

 

Writing is like Parenting a Toddler

  1. You birth your creation, for all intents and purposes, out of sheer will and a bit of sweat.
  2. Either one is a good way to find out who you really are.
  3. Your creation will occasionally wake you up in the middle of the night for a bit of attention.
  4. You will find that your creation wanders into your thoughts without prompting at all hours of the day, regardless of whether you’re directly involved with it, or if it’s even around at the time.
  5. You will spend an inordinate amount of time cleaning up messes that your creation has made: dangling or unresolved plot lines, refrigerator empties onto the floor, characters behaving badly, toilet paper unspooled all over the house and watered with cranberry juice…
  6. Sometimes the best thing to do for your creation is to take it for a walk and get it some fresh air.
  7. Pretty much anybody can write a story or become a parent just by deciding they want to do it. Or sometimes even by accident.
  8. But writing a good story, much like raising a good kid, requires a heck of a lot more planning, thought, and hours than you can probably conceive of at the outset.
  9. Your story, like your toddler, will seem to have unexplainable mood swings all its own; you have to learn how to weather the storm.
  10. When it’s going well, you feel absolutely bulletproof.
  11. When it’s going poorly, you feel eaten by sharks.

Writing is not at all like Parenting a Toddler

  1. It’s pretty unlikely that any problem involving your child can be solved with any amount of ink or word processing power. In fact, adding ink to a situation involving your child is probably a recipe for disaster.
  2. Your story will never literally barf in your shoes.
  3. Or dunk your favorite tie in the toilet.
  4. Or paint with salsa on the carpet.
  5. Society is pretty forgiving to writers who drink. In a lot of cases, writers are almost expected to drink; it’s part of their craft. Parents, on the other hand…
  6. New parents get a free pass to show off pictures and talk about their kids at every opportunity. Nobody wants to see or hear about a writer’s unfinished story.
  7. If your story gets on your nerves, you can shut it down and forget about it entirely for a few days.
  8. Your story will only grow and improve with your active participation. Your kid will grow and learn things entirely on her own. (Usually the wrong things, if you’re not careful.)
  9. Your story probably won’t throw a tantrum in the toy aisle of the Target, earning you the sympathetic glances of fellow writers and the disapproving stares of non-writers.
  10. You only get to pick your kid’s name once.
  11. If you screw your story up, you can throw it out and rewrite it from scratch as many times as you want.

There you have it. A perfectly scientific comparison of two things that totally make sense together. Bear this information in mind when you’re deciding whether you would rather be a writer or a parent. Because you obviously can’t do both at the same time.


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Hide Your Valuables: Guest Poster, Pavowski

The internet is this wonderful place where you can meet new people, engage in scintillating conversation, build a lovely virtual community, and then hand over the keys to a lunatic to house-sit for you while you take a long weekend.

The lunatic would be me. I’m sure Linda will pardon all the selfies I take as I put all her furniture into compromising positions. And these vomit stains will wash right out, I’m sure. Also, the bullet holes were totally already in the siding before I got here. And let’s not discuss details, but you might want to take all your potted plants outside and burn them, for their own good. We’ll just say that they’ve seen things that the average botanical ought not see. (I blame Helen Espinosa for that, actually. Do you even vet your guest hosts at all?)

Anyway, I’m taking over this joint for the week, and more to the point, I’m in the driver’s seat for Stream of Consciousness Saturday this weekend, so, you know, brace for impact and hide your kids and all that. You will probably also see an unrelated ramble from me of the sort I usually post at my own nest of iniquity. If you like what you see, feel free to stop on by and pay a visit to the cubby I knocked out of the drywall where I do my own not-quite-daily driveling at Accidentally Inspired. If you don’t like what you see, well, uh, I’m sure there’s some bleach around here somewhere. Or at least, there was, before I had to clean up after Helen. (I’m pretty sure she killed a guy in the basement, Linda. It definitely wasn’t me. Either way, uh, sorry about the corpse in the basement.)

It occurs to me that you might be curious who I am, just in case you need to make a description for the authorities later. I’m a jack of many trades, master of maybe a quarter of one. I’m a father of two, husband of one, and I sometimes write about that. I teach English at public high school just outside of Atlanta (fear for the future), and I rarely write about that. I run often, for escape and inspiration and to prepare for the zombie apocalypse, and I write about that probably more than the average person cares. Finally, I’m a writer, with two novels drafted and in various stages of editing, and about a thousand more ideas kicking around inside my skull, looking for a way out.

That’s what my blog is really all about — the day-to-day trivialities of the average Pav, working a full-time job and more or less meeting the criteria of a dad and trying like hell to write good stories that might, one day, get published, so that you could hold a book of my work with my name on it, and so that I might hopefully get a couple of dollars for my trouble.

So, yeah. That’s me, and you’re you, and if you’ll just sign these non-disclosure agreements and your life-and-limb waivers, we’ll get started.


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Just a quickie

I was on Twitter a moment ago and saw that #1lineWed is trending. I didn’t know this was a thing! I wonder if it predates my One-Liner Wednesday prompt… does anyone know? Have you heard of it before?

Anyway, to get more exposure on your One-Liners, make sure you tag your posts #1lineWed! I’ll add the suggestion to the rules section next week. This is so cool!


FLIP PHONE ON BED OF RICE

For a giggle AND a helpful tip, read this!
Note: Comments here are closed. Please comment on the original post.

rixlibris

An Unintentional Experiment

Materials needed:

One flip phone, make and model optional.  I used a Huawei from Consumer Cellular.

Pair of jeans, label, size and style optional.  I opted for Levi’s traditional 501 button fly, size 32X32.

A household washing machine.

One large zip-lock sandwich bag.

A container of rice, Uncle Ben’s or brand of your choice.

Procedure sequence:

Load dark load into washing machine.  Strip pockets of jeans currently being worn and place all objects on dresser.  Answer ringing phone and engage in overly long conversation.  Upon concluding conversation place phone into hip pocket of jeans, right or left, your call.  Complete several chores before returning to laundry.  Slip out of jeans and add to dark load.  Start washing machine.  Allow an hour or so to pass and then return to laundry in order to place load into dryer.  Discover flip phone at bottom of washing machine.  Utter expletive or expletives…

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Welcome to Back Hair Advocate!

Hey! A new lit mag is looking for humorous submissions! Go check it out! Bring your funny bone – and your humerus too!

Back Hair Advocate

Hi there,

Back Hair Advocate is a new humor (web) lit mag. It was started after our team of editors (there is no team) realized that there are a dearth of opportunities for writing funny out there.

Back Hair Advocate would like to fill that dearth with your brilliance. We are looking for poems, flash fiction, cartoons, nonfiction pieces and short stories. All of them must have two things in common: they have to be funny and well-written.

The individual behind this new lit mag is IanStarttoday. His work is forthcoming or has been published in a number of fine publications you probably haven’t heard of. They include Eunoia Review, Feathertale.com, Foliate Oak Lit Mag, Asinine Poetry, and Miracle E-zine. He also boasts rejections by many other publications that probably didn’t deserve to feature his genius anyway. :)

He is not above utilizing smiley faces to express emotions and feelings.

So…

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