Monday Post From a Grumpy Old Writer

I don't know why I'm so crabby today... besides the obvious Mondayness of Monday, but I am. As evidence, I was reading something and this was the note I wish I could send to someone:

Dear New Writer,

So, here you are—all fresh-faced and brimming with excitement. Don’t do that… we hate that. If you’ve come for the accolades, they just left. They left with dreams of an income and hope for an easy path… those ruddy bastards. If you’re here for the cheerleading, we miss that… like… a lot. In the beginning, when we needed it and we were new, it was here, there, and everywhere. Now, like an old flavor, all we hear is, “What else do you have?" and "there is a typo on page 20 that made me shoot milk out my nose.” If you’ve come for the crowds or attention, they were here for a bit, but they’ve moved on—following some celebrity that has fallen from a pedestal—or been tripped. Poor schmuck. If you’ve come because you’ve had a dream, that’s so sweet. We’ve had dreams too. We keep them in the corner or use them as paperweights to hold down reality. If you’ve come because something lives inside you—something aggressive that wants out or it’ll devour you—well, then, that's different. You’re among friends. Sit down, write a bit, but try not to mumble too much to yourself. We hate that.

Toodles,

Me.

So, I may need ice cream... or a hug... or to hug ice cream. I'm too young to be cynical I think... but maybe not. Cynical is really warm and comfy and fits me as well as sarcasm.

Alrighty then... tomorrow's post will be all cheerful probably. In the meantime... I just had to get the above out. *crawls back under rock*