Writing advice

Writing is hard for every last one of us—straight white men included. Coal mining is harder. Do you think miners stand around all day talking about how hard it is to mine for coal? They do not. They simply dig.

You need to do the same, dear sweet arrogant beautiful crazy talented tortured rising star glowbug. That you’re so bound up about writing tells me that writing is what you’re here to do. And when people are here to do that they almost always tell us something we need to hear. I want to know what you have inside you. I want to see the contours of your second beating heart.

So write, Elissa Bassist. Not like a girl. Not like a boy. Write like a motherfucker.

from The Rumpus "Dear Sugar" advice column

Oh yeah, it's Valentine's Day.

I sent a few valentines this year and only just realized I forgot the apostrophe in Valentine's. It's killing me.

The "holiday" is generally uneventful for me. It's a fun way to brighten up February, which is otherwise so miserable that we've confiscated two-and-a-quarter days and given them to other months. I might wear pink or eat chocolate candy, but today was particularly useless. I wore the same clothes that I wore yesterday AND in bed. That would be exciting if a hot date was thrown in the mix, but alas, he was not. I wore ugly blue PJs and a wilting white sweater. When I ventured into public, briefly wearing real pants, I pretended to yawn a lot, masking laziness as extreme sleep-deprivation.

But I kept forgetting it was Valentine's Day, too. What other excuse could I have for buying cranberry juice, four boxes of cereal and no chocolates? I did spend the last few weeks looking for a nearby performance of "The Vagina Monologues," but no success in that either.

Not to be entirely excluded from the awkward romantic finagling of Valentine's Day, I almost texted a friend to see if he wants to hang next weekend, but at the last second, I realized it's Feb. 14 and tossed the phone aside. I didn't want to scare him. I'll try again tomorrow. Further self-analysis shows that my fear has further enabled the romantic horror that is Valentine's Day. The terrorists win.

Happy St. Valentine's Day, all. Hope you had a lovely day.