I love Inktip. They do a great job hosting the work of writers. I’ve gotten quite a few reads from industry pros being a part of this well-run, professional web-site.
Have to say I did a double-take on that subject line, though. That’s probably the point, right? I mean, they wanted me to read the e-mail and of course I did.
My thought process went a little something like this:
Thought #1: Thank God!
Thought #2: Holy shit! Just how hopeless am I, anyway? I must read on and find out … just in case I’m the last to know and this is some kind of gentle intervention.
The details of the e-mail are irrelevant beyond the super good part. They say there is hope for me. And gosh darn it! I believe them because I fail to see a downside except, perhaps, living in complete and total denial that breaking into the writing business is a simple matter of being able to string a sentence together when the fact is it’s way harder than, say…..becoming a brain surgeon. Okay…so there’s that one tiny downside but whatever. Let’s not get too bogged down with details, k? I’m on a high here.
Not because of the e-mail.
Because of The Orchid.
It’s from my kitchen. It is on its second blooming. It is a miracle. It deserves to be referred to in capital letters.
I say this because nothing green grows in my care. N.o.t.h.i.n.g.
Until The Orchid.
It holds a shrine-line position in my kitchen window. It is fed every six days with ice-blue holy water…..three teaspoons exactly.
Yes, indeed. There is hope for me.