Why can’t you write something more meaningful?
Where do I begin? I am actually meant to answer this question (paraphrased, but exceedingly accurate, if you must know), or is it something I should simply ponder until the mood strikes to write the next “Great American Novel”? You know, channel Hemingway, Steinbeck, or Fitzgerald…three greats that would never tackle subject matter as insignificant as a bikini wax…or vampires.
It’s not that I don’t like that you’re a writer, I just wish you wrote about more important things. Vampires are just a ridiculous fad.
Excuse me?
What are you saying exactly? Do I need to read between the lines? Should I be offended?
I wonder if Jane Austen had to deal with this kind of crap.
The simple fact is…one girl’s trashy novel is another girl’s Treasure Island. And life would be pretty boring if everyone wrote the same thing. It would be like listening to the same song all day long.
But really, it’s ok. I’m going to take it in stride. For every husband person who doesn’t get my vision, there will be dozens who do. As I used to tell my kids, not everyone will like you.
If you’re lucky, just a few will love you!
Until the next time…I’ll be getting ready for the end of the Daywalkers “Getting into Character” contest.