I think that the closest I get to ‘happy’ in my writing is ‘funny,’ which is fantastically shitty because I should be able to write happy things occasionally, something that isn’t jumped-up gallows humor. it feels necessarily limiting to paint with varying shades of black and gray. I need to work on that.
Writing makes me happy when it connects strongly with feelings I’ve had, whether or not those are happy feelings. A lot of times the happiness I pull from a story has nothing to do with pleasant things happening—Life of Pi is a perfect example. That story made me immeasurably sad, but the writing was so understandable and the moment was so beautifully captured that I couldn’t help but feel good after I read it, and I started to see my own world in the words of the author, and it brought majesty into common scenery. I cried hard, and it was a good cry. I think you’re well on your way to that. (Have you read Life of Pi? Gorgeous. Just flipping gorgeous.)
I loathe the buzzword-laden dreck we have to hock at employers. RESULTS-DRIVEN GOALS ORIENTED IN TEAM SYNERGY PRESSURE, WITH TIME-MANAGEMENT DETAIL-CONSCIOUSNESS
My resume was thisclose to actually including the word “synergy.”
hey hey stop wanking on teh interbutts and come pick me up. COFFEEEEEE.
HOLD YA HORSES LADY
COFFEE SHALL BE THINE
AS SOON AS I’VE LOCATED PANTS
THOSE ARE NECESSARY FOR FETCHING COFFEE
NO NEVER. PANTS ARE NOT NECESSARY.
I’m not wearing any and I get along just fine. C’mon. Get me outta here.
You jerks are coffeeing without me?!