Four-score and seven years ago our forefathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Whether they are a transgendered women's basketball starter, a guy stomping a woman on the head (whether we like it or not), a witch, or a president. Or something like that.
Anyway, civic duty and all, you gotta do it--or you lose all rights to bitching.
A lot of the writers I follow on twitter are doing NaNoWriMo this month. It's a harrowing thing to see, even through the distance of a tiny screen in my hand. I like the idea of it: the whip cracking, the writing and writing with just an outline and a word count. Maybe I'll try it one of these years.
Today I re-sent out my transcript request with all t's crossed, outlined my bee essay, and submitted my 'boys at the track' piece of flash fiction to Hayden's Ferry Review. I also finished reading Kristin Hersh's memoir, Rat Girl. It was a really amazing rollercoaster ride, and I feel like I need to write about it somewhere. Maybe goodreads? amazon? I still don't have access to the Bust blog like I'd hoped, or I'd review it there.
I also need to start reading something new. Or finish up something on the stack. Maybe I will tackle Neal Pollack's fake memoir The Greatest Anthology or whatever it is next. Right after I crash out, that is.
Me llamo Chelsea.
Yo soy de Oregon, pero ahora, yo vivo en Arizona.
Tengo una hermana.Esta es mi madre. No tengo un marido.
Also, check out savethewords.org. I adopted speustic. It means "hastily made or baked."