Ideas are cheap

At least I tell myself that. But then I have an idea.

And here's how that goes

Shiny New Idea: (waving frantically) Hey! Hey! WRITE ME!! No, don't listen to that other idea! Write me!

Me: I have work to do. You know, a contract?

SNI: But I'm a brilliant new idea. You should be honored to have even had me. Do you know how rare we are?

Me: I had a good idea for a whole trilogy last week, what makes you so different?

SNI: I have an awesome title. (holds out hands while nodding)

Me: I don't have time for this.

SNI: But I won't let you down like all those other ideas. I am the IT factor. (widens eyes and nods).

Me:(long suffering sigh) Fine. I'll write you down. That's all I can promise. You'll have to wait in line with the others.

SNI: A line? A NUMBER? Fine, you wanna make me wait, fine. Have ALL THE THOUGHTS! (floods my brain with the whole world, the strange cultures, the twists, the imagery) HA! SEE IF YOU CAN WRITE LIKE THAT!

Me: Alright, I'll put together an outline, but I really do have a deadline. I need some space.

SNI: Okay, I can be patient. (leaks more imagery and some FEELS)

Me: Hey, I said space, okay?

SNI: I just don't want you to forget. I think I'm pretty awesome.

Me: I noticed.

SNI: (leaks more details)

Me: (sigh)

And for my theme...

Okay, you got me, I haven't done an A to Z challenge yet, and this year isn't looking good. In fact, I usually take April off from blogging (read: my posting doesn't change at all, but I pretend to post less for my sanity).

And part of the reason that I'm not jumping into A to Z this year is that I start to run out of things to blog about. I mean, yes, I can regale you all with tales of my life, but really, we only need one poopy post, I think I've got that covered.

Most of what I think I should talk about is entirely forbidden.

Hmmm, forbidden. I'll have to think on that. I could do an entire A to Z on the forbidden conversations in publishing.


Well, I'll have to give that some thought.

How about you, do you feel like you're running out of topics for blogging?

Feeling like a square peg surrounded by round holes, a super late IWSG

I don’t know how many of you feel like the world was built for you, but my guess is not many. For me, the world is designed for people smaller than me. Now, I know smaller people swear that the world is designed for tall people, but that’s not been my experience.

My jeans are three inches too short―always.

My shoes? I wear them a size small because they rarely make them in my actual size.

I hit my head on door jambs. You'd be surprised how many people think it's okay to have non-standard door jambs.

Toilets are designed for the Wizard of Oz's lollipop kids as far as I can tell.

My shirts always show midriff. Let me be clear, I do not want to show midriff, but woman’s clothing is designed for people 6 to 8 inches shorter than me. I wear a lot of camisoles because midriff is not a fashion choice I’m okay with.

My desk is already on two blocks, and to be truthful, I have to hunch to use it properly.

I hit my head on the roof of my car if I go over a bump.

That style of ¾ sleeves? I wore that way before it was a thing. ¾ sleeves don’t cover my elbows

Someone once asked me if I was comfortable in my chair and I laughed. The chairs don’t go high enough to be comfortable and fit under the desks.

My whole world doesn’t fit, and honestly, my stories don't fit either. To make matters worse, more and more, I don’t seem to have the ability to duck my head and stuff my stories into shoes that are a size too small. They don’t fit. Somehow, I can stuff my feet into those shoes, but I can’t make my stories suffer like that.

The only problem is, like all things, there are stories that are cute and get to wear the beautiful glass slippers (have you ever seen glass slippers in size 11? Yeah, me either), and then there are my stories. The cute stories get snapped up and it seems like everyone falls in love with them (yeah, they are cute, and they do wear those slippers like a boss, *sigh*). My stories, like my feet, have a big nob on the side. The toes might as well be prehensile, and that one is curled under with a giant bump from when the horse smashed it.

And that’s what I write. No amount of stuffing is going to get my stories into those beautiful glass slippers, and it's taken a while, but I'm okay with that. Those cute stories weren’t the ones I wanted to tell because I’m not the only person staring at those glass slippers and wishing that for once I got to have something cute and pretty, but I was too tall for ballet by the time I was 10. I’m not the only person with flipper shaped feet. They aren’t going to win any beauty contests, but they are perfect for swimming, and they’ve served me well in soccer, hockey, and fencing.

They are mine, a part of me that I can’t change. To me, stuffing my stories into those pigeon holes is like Anastasia chopping off her toe to be queen. It ain’t happening. I’m just glad that I found my voice before someone tried to convince me to stick my stories into those pretty little slippers.*

So, what do you think? Is the world made to order for you? Do you hate that tall people get everything? Are your stories the red-headed stepchildren of publishing?

*full disclosure, I do have a Cinderella story in the works, but it’s told from the fairy godmother’s point of view. It features pretty glass slippers and everything, just not for the MC. Also, I totally just watched the new Cinderella and I loved it. It was awesomeness.

IWSG post fail

Yes, I know. I was supposed to post an IWSG. I had it all ready to go. So why didn't it post? Well, I got cold feet. I was feeling insecure, and then I wasn't. I wrote four different insecure writer's posts, so you'd think I would have managed to post one of them.

Nope.
See, I'm at DisneyWorld (no really, it's good reason not to post--also, someone else is watching the house, so it's not like people can take advantage of our not being there). I had meant to post. I really had. It was right up there with drink plenty of water and get to bed early.

Those things did not happen either.

I'm just worried that my Insecurities right now are just a little too unprofessional. So yeah. I'm going to keep them to myself. Instead, look at this great picture of my daughter riding a carousel horse.

Okay, I'll sift through these posts and trickle out the parts that are fit for general consumption (well, maybe not, my thoughts have definitely been in the DON'T TALK ABOUT THAT! realm).