Words: too many, none of which were my own
Caffeine: morning cup
Evil Calories: Cookies n' Cream ice cream - only because my son asked for it and I've heard that denying your child's innocent requests for ice cream might negatively effect their SAT scores later in life.
Reality TV: Millionaire Matchmaker (I'm not proud of this)
What would you do if you knew you could not fail?
...say a little fairy god-something-or-other lands on your shoulder and tells you that you are destined for wonderfulness once you actually do the thing you truly want to do. It's an interesting topic and one that was discussed this week in my lovely little writers group. (yes, I have a writers group! And it's a "live and in person" writers group, as in they come to my house and I make brownies that (sometimes) come out really yummy (when I don't accidentally add an extra egg to the batter) and we sit and talk about writing! It's just about the coolest thing ever and I highly recommend you try it! Forming a writers group, that is...not adding an extra egg to brownie batter. That sucks.)
So, what would you do if you knew you could not fail? Would you make writing your number one priority? Would you stay up late, wake up early and forgo basic daily grooming just to get those extra seconds to put into your work? Would you tell everyone you know to rally behind your efforts because your fairy-god-something said that you were destined for greatness? Because before your fairly-god-something landed on your shoulder, there was always the tiniest sense of futility to your writing efforts. You could hope, dream, send happy thoughts out into the universe, but in the back of your mind you knew it could end up going no where. But now you know, because your fairy-god-something told you that awesomeness awaits, and fairly-god-somethings don't lie.
Now, here's where I have one of those "a-ha" moments. Shouldn't we be going along as if our fairy-god-somethings really did land on our shoulders and told us of our pending greatness? We're writers. We spend our days suspending reality. Why should this be any different? Yes, it may take us a step into the "nuttier than a fruitcake" forest, but I'd be willing to bet most of us already have a pretty good campsite set up there. (Mine has a tent with an indoor swimming pool and a ski-ball arcade. Thursday's are tournament nights. Bring your A game, sucka!) Remember, writers are supposed to be weird and wacky. It adds to our charm.
So, from this moment forward I'm working under the guise that I've had a visit from my fairy-god-something (who has currently taken the form of Tim Roth since I've spent the last two days ODing on episodes of Lie to Me on Hulu before they expire). He doesn't actually land on my shoulder...he just sits down at the my desk and hands me a cappuccino. Plus, he wears Prada:
As fairy-god-somethings go, he's pretty darn good.
Who would your fairy-god-something be? And what would you do if they told you that you could not fail?