Thursday, March 10, 2011

I Have a Corndog in the Freezer, But Thank You

It was just a good line that my friend fired off today.  I snatched it up and told her I was snatching it up. Now it's mine, and I have to decide what to do with it. Is it an opening line? Is it a response to a misheard line? Is it a turn down to some poor fool?

I haven't been great at collecting my great lines.  I don't hear them all the time. That's the good thing. Just like I don't write all the time.  But I still should save them.  They're nuggets that make me think of my creative writing teacher at UofH. She kept her great lines and thoughts on stickies all over her apartment. We got to see it, too. She had us all come over at the end of the semester for a potluck. There I got to peek into her windows - got to see how a real writer lives. It was glorious.  I've never forgotten it.  And I've tried it once or twice - but I have a thing about stickies. You know the bottom part that flaps up and curls a little?  I can't have that - it bugs me. So, I like index cards better.  Not lined, though. That makes the whole thing seem like a cram session.  How picky can I be? As picky as it takes to keep me from writing . . . .

Too bad for me that I know that index cards come in all sorts of shapes and sizes and colors now - thanks to scrapbooking.

Do I dare set up a writing nook? Do I dare tell Brock and get his complete support and enthusiasm and tell him I want a writing nook because I'm going to get published?
Do I dare quit dancing around this thing and kiss it on the mouth?
Do I?