The Pyrenees---Southern France

The Pyrenees---Southern France

Friday, February 15, 2013

Shake It Up

      I was working on a submission for Publishing Syndicate's NYMB's series today. (I have a day off from teaching today, due to having parent-teacher conferences this week, which means I have a four-day weekend. Ssssh! Don't tell Val. She will come to my house and poke holes in my tires with an out-of-ink pen.) I haven't done much dating in my life, but not wanting to miss a chance at increasing the number of publication notches on my belt, I thought, 'I miiiight have a story.'


photo by Jen !

It made me think of the song by The Cars:

Dance all night
play all day
don't let nothing get in the way.  

(We have to allow nothing to prevent us from writing.) 
Dance all night
keep the beat
don't you worry 'bout two left feet.

(Make sure your internal "editor" or your fear of having two left thumbs inhibit you.)
Dance all night
get real loose
you don't need no bad excuse.

(Let your writing flow. BIC--butt in chair. Get it down on paper, then you can work on refining it.
Dance all night
with anyone

Don't let nobody pick your fun.(Just do it. Do it by yourself. Do it for you.)
Dance all night
whirl your hair
make the night cats stop and stare.

(Wait. Have you seen my hair after an evening of writing? Scary, right? People utter the word "breathtaking" when they see me, but I also detect a sharp intake of air. What's up with that?)
Dance all night go to work
do the move with the quirky jerk.

(Take an occasional break from writing. Turn on some music. Loud music. (You'll see Cathy C. Hall's husband and me dancing. He might be a wicked-good dancer. I, on the other hand, will doing the "Elaine Benes.") Dance around. Get some circulation to other parts of your body besides your finger--like your butt--and then get back to writing.)

      By shaking things up, I found I did indeed have a dating story. It's not so much about a date, but about nudging someone (my husband) into a first date. It's not a Chicken Soup story--they have a call out for dating stories as well--but its edginess would be right up NYMB's alley...at least I hope so.

      In my story, I did something so embarrassing, I won't be able to reveal what I did until the end of the tale.

      I hope I finish the story. I hope it's accepted. And I hope you will then be compelled to buy the book.

      Until then, shake it up.

      (By the way, I knew of this song, but was not sure of who did it and certainly did not know the lyrics by heart. I had to look it up online. Val the victorian would have known this song and could have quoted the lyrics from memory, I'm sure. Recently, I tried to stump her with some in-the-middle lyrics of a Leo Sayer song. Not his sappiest, and not his most well-known song. I thought I could stump her, but was unable to. If anyone thinks they can flummox her in the area of movies, TV shows or songs, please challenge her. She must be taken down a notch!)

13 comments:

  1. Hey, lady! I like your thinkin'! Now I have to go hunt the song down on YouTube. :) Good luck with your story!

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    1. Thanks, Lisa. I am keeping my fingers crossed that my story about YOUR CS story is accepted into the anniversary anthology. Save your good wishes for that one...

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  2. I bet that small type says something really interesting. I'll have to ask someone!

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    1. Just put some reading glasses on. ;)

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  3. The reason you did not stump me with the Leo Sayer song was that 3 Dog Night also did that song, and I have their greatest hits. Reports of my '70s, '80s, and some '90s pop culture expertise have been greatly exaggerated. I have a narrow band of knowledge at which I am unbeatable. The rest finds me as weak as a newborn kitten.

    My reply to your probing alerted me to the fact that you, Madam, are no fan of 3 Dog Night. A travesty, really, what with your doggy good deeds and possible one-time misdemeanor.

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  4. I DID like Three Dog Night, but apparently my brain is more similar to swiss cheese than a steel jaw leg trap.

    And it would have been a felony, not a misdemeanor. You, madam, are trying to goad me into a duel.

    Someday, you might get exactly what you deserve...

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    1. I was trying to downplay your criminal past. Much like fat, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life (I'm sure you will recognize this unmarked quote), expounding upon your scofflaw behavior is no way to fly under the radar of the long arm of the law.

      I would no more challenge you to a duel than I would float the Cahulawassee River with Burt Reynolds, Ronny Cox, and Ned Beatty.

      Which reminds me of a dating story, back when I first met my Hick.

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    2. The floating part, or the "squeal like a pig" part?

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    3. The "lost in the wilderness, with the thought that nobody will find the body" part.

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  5. I have had some baaaaad dates...I'm not even sure the NYMB would print my stories. And wouldn't I have to get a release from each loser I write about?

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    1. Well, you can give them "names" like Mr. Bad Toupee or Mr. You-Need-a-Mansierre or Mr. Incapable-of-Listening.

      From your posts, I imagine you take the worst date and spin some dark humor out of it.

      Try it, Kim. Maybe someday you and I and Linda and others can do a book signing together? I'd love to be in the same book as you...

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  6. "Wrestling in the Weeds. Wouldn't that be a bad date?" (Bill looking over my shoulder).

    I hope to read all about it Wednesday.

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  7. Wrestling in the weeds would definitely be my idea of a lousy (get it--louse) date.

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