*Spoiler Alert* There is literally nothing profound in this post. Not that I wouldn’t love to have some epic conversation about the writing journey, the unidentifiable bias inherent in Twitter pitches, or my complete confusion of all social media marketing, but yeah…not happening. I even joked with M. L. Eaden (who did in fact write a profound and enlightening post this week) that I could write about the total disenfranchisement of the millennial generation, except it’s so over done.
Short Version? An alarming number of people hate on millennials, including other millennials. Most millennials resent being pigeon-holed as a millennial. We don’t need to get into why, just know it’s true.
So, since I’m not going to talk about that, I figured we could keep things light this week and I could share some quirky facts about myself. For example: I love dad jokes. Like full on snort, go into a giggle fit for ten minutes, love dad jokes and all the horrible puns they represent. Don’t judge me. It’s important to find and appreciate humor wherever you can.
Have you heard the one about the broken pencil? (pause for effect) It was pointless.
On a writing note: I enjoy making my characters argue and even better than that, making them freak out. I’m talking full on gibbering mess, where the words tumble out almost too fast to keep up with. As someone who regularly trips over their own words in a rush to get them out, this feels sooo relatable and genuine.
Ooh, other fun fact: Words Are Hard. Don’t give me that nonsense about being a writer. When you type words, you can change them. Side note, I favor the delete button over backspace. Anarchy, I know, but it’s the truth. Don’t worry, I made my peace with being weird a long time ago.
The first word I can remember ever having to look up was “raze”. I just remember being so confused when I read it. Normally, I’m very good with context clues and the realization that this four letter word was throwing me at fourteen boggled my damn mind. I had a hardcore Princess Bride moment as I read and reread the word.
The story was using it like burning something down, but that didn’t make any sense. Raise meant to build up. As if it wasn’t troubling enough that they got the definition wrong, they spelled it wrong as well. Like seriously? So bothered by this, I pulled hunted down my dictionary. Yes, an actual, paperback, Webster dictionary, while I was sitting in front of the family computer. And if that doesn’t show my age, nothing will.
Anyway, I digress. I look up the word as it is spelled in the book and lo and behold, it is a real word, it’s not spelled incorrectly, and it means exactly what I deduced it to mean. *BOOM* New favorite word.
Now to round everything out. I am a firm believer in the Oxford Comma and will defend it until the day I die. *See list in previous paragraph* I am not taking arguments at this time, just know you’re wrong. 😉