I filled out the RWA/Stanford Survey thingamajig yesterday. (Yes, I did just use the word “thingamajig”
in an opening line. Is there no clearer sign of writerly rot than that? I think
not.)
Anyhow, I filled it out, felt rather accomplished for a good half of
the experience, felt rather failure-like for the other half. A bit of a cup
half-filled / half-empty thingamabob, that. (“Thingamabob?”
Rot, rot, I say.)
One question in particular had me seeing expletives. “Do you figure on
making more money from your writing next year than you did this past year?”
Surprisingly, they didn’t have “Are you freaking kidding me? I darn
well better,” as a multiple choice answer. So, I politely checked the “Yes,
please” equivalent and moved on with my day.
Why I’m bothering to share any of this with you, I have no idea.
I blame the rot.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe
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