Your Turn

One of my friends informed me that I was unusually boring last week.

My first response: "Pfft." My second response: "Of course I'm boring. All I've done this week is work."

Which is true. Only I'm not writing—I'm editing.

On editing.

Part of me hates doing it. It's so much more fun and spontaneous to write. Writing is like cooking: you're creative and throwing things together in a pot, making magic when it all comes out delicious.

However, part of cooking is the clean-up. That's what editing is: cleaning up after yourself. Cleaning up can be meditative and satisfying, in the right mood. It's easy—you know where things are supposed to go so you just put everything in its proper place. It can also be tedious. Hence the reason part of me hates doing it. 

My mood.

I've been trying to look at editing in a more positive light. Why should it be drudgery? It's not—it's the easy part. But still, you have to sit down and just do it, so it makes me seem dull.

Ergo...

It's your week to be entertaining. Tell me something exciting you did. Or—heck—make something up. Our grip on reality is loose here, in case you haven't noticed. Have at it.

Posted by Kate on 12 April 2011

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Comments

  • Alas, my life is fairly boring as well - Studying for exams. Sometimes you run across an interesting subject that makes it kinda fun, but eventually you're just dragging yourself through textbooks.

    ... my life is so boring lately that I can't even think of anything interesting to make up. The best I'm coming up with is pleasant conversation with a ghost in the cemetary down the street. Or kite-flying. Which I've been itching to do all week, now that the weather is nice again...

    Posted by Karen, 12/04/2011 10:08am (1 year ago)

  • hehehe. I'm hungry too (referencing your tags).

    So I was walking through a forest. It was dusk, I didn't have a flashlight. I was getting worried, needless to say (I'm a city girl). All around me was nothing but NATURE. I heard leaves rustling, wind chapped my face, my feet crunched down on twigs. I was lost. I'd walked too far away from the car, the compass on my cell still worked, but I couldn't remember which direction I parked. Logan was no help. She was sitting on the ground, rocking back and forth. I had to get us to civilization before she started muttering to herself. Just when I was about to tell her to get up, I heard a noise. The deliberate click of a safety being turned off.

    Posted by Parisa, 12/04/2011 10:58am (1 year ago)

  • A pleasant conversation with a ghost would be lovely, Karen. :)

    Good story, P! And of course Logan would be lost with you in the woods.

    Posted by Kate, 13/04/2011 11:13am (1 year ago)

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