So the amazing Jessica started this website called What Song is in That Commercial? and I'm totally writing for them, which is rad. Thank you, Jessica. From the depths of my soul.
If you cannot guess what the website is about by reading the title of it, get the fuck off my blog. What are you even doing here? Were you googling pictures of toy dinosaurs? Probably, right.
This is a real life writing gig, with a wee bit of money and everything. How do I even begin to describe how fulfilling that is? It's energizing.
I'm three posts deep, but there will be more, oh fucking yes, there will be more. So I'm doing some self-promotion here, which is in all honesty a very
new thing for me. But I'm trying to be better at it. I'm trying to get more decisive and confident in my writing, because you know why? I'm fucking good at it. I'm really, really good.
Check out my shit.
Send in requests to the site, even. We will answer them.
This is way better than when I wrote reviews for Ask and Ye Shall Receive, which, to be honest, was totally emotionally draining and basically the worst. I was a strong supporter of AAYSR and half the things it stood for. I made a lot of friends there and I loved having the freedom to be completely honest and crank things up to eleven, but I just didn't have the punch to keep it going.
It really harshed on my confidence, because let's face it: when I took over that website, all of the readers left, and I just didn't have the time and energy to properly promote things, check back on reviewees, find committed reviewers, and generally be an adult that actually cares about things. I was a poor substitute for Love Bites.
It doesn't really help that that blogs are fucking dead. Deader than dogshit. Everyone faded away, but I'm still here, because I cannot stop writing. I have nothing else. I've never had anything, or anyone, close enough in real life to provide the outlet this blog gives me.
But AAYSR taught me things, like (1) being a critic sucks ass, (2) there are
soooooo many terrible writers out there, and (3) most people who
consider themselves writers are completely full of shit.
Sometimes I'm full of shit, of course. But what do I do when that happens? I chug a pot of coffee, grab a sexy book, and go sit on the toilet for half an hour. Maybe not a sexy book, not like 50 Shades of Sexy Time or whatever its called, it's more of a writing style. Like Hemingway, but way trashier than Hemingway. Like Joe Abercrombie, who just beautifully, haughtily murders everything in his path and it's glorious.