The concourse just seems to be telling me to focus on writing screenplays this semester and (duh) of course I don't listen. I don't want to roll up the cuffs of my sleeves and work in a different genre. I'd rather just milk my own eccentric ego and spaltter out sentences for long, abstruse novels that in all likelihood no one will ever read because the books themselves don't make any sense.
2 comments:
D, i'm still checking my mailbox for your writings but this Christmas never seems to arrive.
SHIT!!! My crazy ad hoc editor who has extra copies of the journal is NEVER in her office. I'm suppose to meet with her tomorrow....
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