This week it's felt like I have a career in writing.
No, I didn't get any money, but I did get some attention.
I'm up on Kelly Spritzer's "The Writer Profile Project" and damn if she doesn't make me sound dateable, I mean interesting.
And I'm also up on the Descant Blog. Descant is my favourite CanLit journal. I'm not sure why. Okay, I am, but its not virtuous: a long time ago I went through a bunch of BASS (Best American Short Story) anthologies and added up how many mentions CanLit journals got. Descant won. That did it. I'm a fame whore. And dateable, I mean talented.
And speaking of fame whoring- it's my fifteen minutes, so I'd better get milking! I'm also doing a reading on October 10th at the Gladstone Hotel (It’s at 7:30- be there or have a very good excuse ready for when I hunt you down and ask 'where the hell were you when I needed you?'). Single gay men in their forties will especially find me dateable, I mean a good reader.
Also, three journals asked me for pieces. And one of them pays! In dates, I mean money.
How famous do you have to get before hot men start brushing up against you? A lot more. I know. But I can dream.I was trained to be quite British by actual British people, so this unseemly tooting of my own horn is quite difficult. I've heard it's the thing to do if you want to build on your dating pool, I mean writing career. We'll see who wins: my ego, id or superego. (Go, id, I'm rooting for you!) Feel free to toot your horn in the comments to this post. It's shameless self-promotion day!