Maybe I still will be surprised. Maybe one of the contests I still haven't heard about is the golden(or silver, or bronze) ticket that will take my writing talent out of impressions of other writers' styles--I'm a decent mimic-- that entertain my friends or something that might take some sting out of what other people might think is a pretty grim Origin Story,(what's weird about that is that it really upsets people that think that the most when I agree. I suppose I am supposed to be...I don't know, the B-side of the heroine who is completely unaware that she's gorgeous, but I haven't been that unaware of the abled/capitalist world's judgment since I was ten or eleven.) All the more reason to occasionally long to earn something tangible, since my musty BA just kind of got me "Yeah, seven years...how fast can you type? Excel much?"(Apparently not at anything the corporate world really cares about, I guess. But they thought my schlepping around on phantom interviews "took real guts," but not enough that somebody...I don't know, try me out at something.)
It's not like I really expected Small Press to accept something they're not into just to tell me that the scribe's life is still the one for me, but at times, I do long for that movie moment. I guess I feel good about not taking rejection so meekly and about, even momentarily, being excited enough about something I've done to try to keep the attention of someone I haven't met. Besides many of you, of course. But I can't say that really had better *results* than quietly admitting I'm awful, or the polar extreme of " Not wanting to mess with the Universe's timetable" and trying to journal my way out of a slump--again, besides this.
If I really do have a chance at reincarnation or something, my only specific request would be for the dating-site conversation and the job interview conversation...not to resemble each other so much.(At least the people on those long-ago job interviews weren't so obsessed with photos; that's one small mercy. I don't scare fish or anything, but I also have only photographed well a handful of times. It also really doesn't help to have your overcompensating mother hit you with "What do you mean? This one is *beautiful8 when you bring this up.)
There is nothing like being not sure that it's in you to remind you how much Americans think we like moxie (not just the root beer from my grandparents' era0 and want to believe that everything can be solved with blind nerve and the right handshake.
Also, there are kind of two palatable crip personalities and I don't really think I have either. I'm too old and obsessive to make a good Beth March type, especially since i am still very much alive(no matter much of a thrill that often is not.)
But neither do I have the kind of ten-ton dynamism that a wheelchair can't contain or anything. Only someone who saw me from a far distance could think I "never let CP hold me back."
It's held me back a lot. But I've gotten through a lot, too.
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