Take Me Serious

Sunk in the bottom of an ocean of books at a big-box bookstore, I realized how insane it is to hope to make a mark, much less a splash, writing books in this world. But the would-be authors I saw there contrasted so sharply with the crisp and handsome new books that I got keenly critical, and as the former Miss Mousy USA I know it helps, if and when one wants to be taken seriously as a bright and disciplined person with a future, to show your material self some dignity:

• Get a haircut.
  
• Don't wear dirty green T-shirts.
• Clean your shoes.
• Conceal your bra straps and g-strings.
• Crocs are for home wear only.
  
• Don't carry big, lumpy bags.
  
• Women: Wear a bra that holds 'em.
• Don't gnaw at, or carry around, plastic or foam containers of food and drink.
• Don't flap your hands. Don't gnaw at those, either.
  
• Pick one of your good features -- nice hair, nice butt, expressive eyes, strong chin, pretty ears -- and deliberately enhance it.
  
• Sit straight.
  
• Over 40? Ditch the baseball cap.
  
• Harmonize your socks and shoes.
  
• Save your all-in-black look for funerals.
  
• Don't let everyone see you surfing Asian-bride sites.
  

None of the above are prohibitively difficult or expensive. Look as much as possible like a brand-new book!

(More on my life as Miss Mousy in the next post.)

What Finally Drove Me to Enter a Poetry Contest

I'll admit up front that I want two things from contests. One is money. My car skidded and is in the shop. (On me, not a scratch. God protects writers.) But when the repairs totaled $4000 I asked myself, where else does a poet have a chance of getting money? So I'm a-going for the green. Knowing very well the odds are long: estimate is between 800 and 1200 to 1. BUT NOWADAYS THAT'S ABOUT THE SAME AS THE ODDS OF GETTING A JOB. (P.S.I already have a second job.)

Next, I want honorable mentions, something nice to put on apps for writers' colonies, grants and the like. We all know good work is not enough. Publication is not enough. Someone from the outside has to declare you special. A fiction writer I knew turned "second place" and "finalist for the Umpteenth Named-After-Famous Writer Award" into a resume so awesome people in a neighboring state were talking about her in hushed tones two years later. Of course it takes a fiction writer to do that.

Collateral benefit: getting the work revised, updated, and in order. Somebody stop me, please, if I try this again.