Vell vell vell my darlings, I have actually gotten a contract job in my field! So it appears that my career is not dead after all. Perhaps it is Undead? Perhaps it has Risen from its sordid Black-Death Crypt of the Universe, sucking the life out of its dastardly demise? At Midnight perhaps, when things go bump, when things change for the better, or is it worse?
HA HA HAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"Vell vell vell mah dahlingks!" Veronique lit her cigar and pushed up her Victoria Secret Platypus Push-Me-Pull-You Bra and smiled at me.
"Got Torque?" I said, mocking her suddenly famous (or is it infamous) commercial?
"Nooooo, no, nooooooo!" Veronique exotique and erotique put her lips together and blew out her cigar, the blue curls festering into feathers and then nothingness. Just like magique. Mystique, too.
In addition to finding gainful employment, albeit temporarily, I have also received my first rejection letter from a literary agent. I submitted a query letter via email to Nelson Agency. The story query I sent was the one on this blog about the Aliens and the girl bored-to-snot in CubicleLand. The one who has the Massive Intense Crush on a VIP hottie at work. There's a witch involved as well.
No worries. A rejection email only means that I am THIS MUCH CLOSER TO MY DREAM OF BECOMING PUBLISHED. Hurrah! I am still researching erotica and whether I should attempt to write it or not. I think I should definitely write comedy. I made the writing group two Wednesdays ago laugh their heinies off. Okay I KNOW I am NOT supposed to end a sentence with a preposition:
I made the writing group two Wednesdays ago laught their heinies off, Bitch! Ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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