So, I’m mixing up a batch of banana bread–that I probably won’t eat–and I’m popping a Bit-o-Honey (I love them!!!!) into my mouth, when my son says,
“Hey Mom, did you know it takes one thousand, six hundred steps to work off one M&M?”
I’m pretty sure that’s for a whole pack. I hope.
Want another laugh?
This was the first magazine to publish one of my short stories. It was a cool magazine, but I think the uh, covers, caused problems because they were being shelved in the wrong areas of bookstores.
So, take a look. When I went looking for this one, can you guess where it had been shelved? (See my name on the cover? I hugged the UPS delivery lady when it came in. <g.)
I simply can’t bring myself to read this story. It’s so far removed from the writing voice I’ve since developed, it’s like reading someone else’s work.
I think that’s why I’ve never gone back to rewrite my first three completed manuscripts. I pulled the second one out about a year ago and actually cringed. Cringed and blushed and squirmed and fervently hoped sufficient time had passed since editors saw my name on that train wreck.
My first manuscript. Well, it’s on a floppy disk… and a diskette, so it might as well be.
Should be anyway. <g>