dotinthesky | (no subject)

Kevin told me in bed that I smell like thyme in the morning. Good ol' roasted potato. This potato hasn't found any wet earth yet to stick his roots and grow from. In fact, this potato doesn't know what to do with his life.

Mr. Potato was looking at his writings last night, done during a time when he was part-time and decided on creating a career as a short-story writer. Mr. Potato was shocked to realize that his writing wasn't very good, and much use for anyone (except Reader's Digest.) Mr. Potato was sad, so sad. Thyme-scented pearls began rolling down his baked face, splashing onto the dining room's glass table. The room was soon smelling like a roast dinner gone bad.

Fortunately, Mr. Potato has a new plan. He might become a literary agent! Business dinners at the Met Bar, movie deals in L.A., 1st class flights between the publishing capitals of the world. Mr. Potato could be so happy. Mr. Potato, therefore, would like to encourage all his little piggy friends to send him their written works: novels, erotic fiction, memoirs, photography books. Mr. Potato is not picky. Mr. Potato will take care of it all and make sure the publishers pay the highest price for printing your work.

Mr. Potato is now going to read his email and reply to your lovely comments. Be kind today: eat a crumpet instead of a potato.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

poor mr. potato.
I also write: I also am not very good.

I will add you to angel_fish so you can see how not good I am (i never finished it)

If someone sends you some badly written hentai later from a livejournal address you don't recognise, its not, me, ok?

lol... ok, I will avert my eyes.

;)

just be happy you don't smell like morning breath and onions

he... maybe i do smell like that and Kevin was being a gentleman.

hahaha, I doubt it!

I am going to be eating you for lunch, just so you know...

as I hadn't had my usual baked potato wwith cheese and brocolli this week yet

*ouch!*

couldn't you have at least left that piece out???

you will be happy to kno, that they were out of you at the gourmet spud...so i had to settle for a sandwich

Yei!

*does happy Mr. Potato dance*

your head is safe, baby cakes!

oooooohhhh......do you want to be my agent, Mr Redfern!!!!!!??????

sure! Maybe I can work the deal for your international release.

deal!

Awe...I made mashed potatoes today! Hahaha...and you know what? I think your writing is awesome...much better than reader's digest...and I'm a picky fucking bitch!

thank you... I think I just need to find myself a literary guru or master to teach me the ways of proper grammar - and also give myself a little more self-confidence.

Mashed potato with cheese and milk and butter?

I'd like to read more of your writing...proper grammer or not...makes me laugh :) No...no cheese, ew. Milk & butter yes.

You know my ex is a writer...a damn talented one at that but I kind of hate him so I'm reluctant to share...that's mean I know. But everyone loves him and soon becomes majorally addicted to him...hate them all. Anyways, he's in love now so he doesn't update much but here's his journal

saskapampy I don't care if you mention my name...we talk here and there...I guess I should get over my stupidness when it comes to him ;p and wish him well in his life.

When it comes to exs... well, it must be difficult ( i wouldn't know cause Kevin is my first boyfriend!) But you seem to be in such a different stage of your life that I'm sure it could only do you good to wish him good luck and lock that part of your life for good.

I'm going to try to post more of my writing in this journal, friends-only, so that you guys can laugh then. :P

(grated parmesan cheese in the mash is sooo yum!)

perhaps mr. potato should stop indulging in the narcissistic illusion that he, or ANYONE, can write brilliant work without engaging in a long and bloody editing/rewriting process. maybe mr. potato should embrace the ugly, necessary task of reworking one of these old-ass stories. alternatively, since he is likely overly invested in the project of self-loathing, he might consider loosening his miserly grip on his work, and permit a boyfriend or friend to have at it. i know a certain copy-editor who is willing to volunteer her newly-minted services.

ok ok! Go ahead and make my day, punk!

:P

this mr. potato is feeling much better and finally making plans for extensive editing and submitting material to the world! Weehee...

Bring it!

okie... let me select carefully what to send to you.

Thank God you came to your senses!

it's hard... Harold Bloom has a book about artistic anxiety, and I totally feel it. He's whole theory is based on the oppression an artist feels when confronted with all that was created before him, and which he feels he must stand up to.

yeah, the problem is you're not a naive 16 year old... you can't allow the weight of history to cripple you. but consider yourself first a pupil, an amateur. you've absorbed, are absorbing the good things the world's writers have taught you; your only responsibility now is to commit yourself to your own imaginative landscape. trust your guts, your biographical algorythms, your aesthetic passions, your digestive filter, and set yourself to work - it's the most any artist can do. when you're cooking, you don't think, oh, this meal will never match up to Nigella Lawson's egyptian salad, i shouldn't bother, i'll just have some crackers and cheese ... you take what you've learned from your mother, your friends, cookbooks, insiring meals you've had at restaurants - you look at your tomatoes and onions, and make yourself something to eat. If you cared about making it, it will be good; and anyway, it's all you can do.

i agree... i've come to understand that and believe in it too... but the anxiety is mostly when I'm editing... I just have to give the editing work, perhaps, to someone else...

;)