400 words

Supposedly, if you write only 150 words a day for a year you will produce enough for a book. If I tried to do that I’m fairly certain 90% of the book would be bitching about work. While it is relatable, it’s also not terribly inventive or interesting after about 300 words. You should see the vomit I produce for work half the time. While technically accurate, it’s not entertaining, heartwarming, funny or mildly amusing. It is informative if you care anything about program milestones or executives that get promotions. Huzzah. Everyone was acting excited because I am going to have a story in our external magazine about our atmospheric scientists. It’s not a bad story at all and the two employees profiled deserve recognition. However, it is completely devoid of my voice or style. Most of you are probably thinking that no one in their right mind would publish me in ‘my voice’ for a corporate publication and you are half right. (157) When I can’t put any emotion into a story I have a hard time getting really excited to tell it. Granted, my emotions range from none to pure rage most of the time, but I am entitled to them and if you can feel the rage through the paper then I feel as though I’ve earned my keep for the day. My favorite thing to do is invoke a good cackle. That makes me happiest. (224)  When I can’t get behind a story my writing process is similar to a child avoiding a chore. Turn on some music. Pick my teeth. Get a drink. Refill drink. Harass the dog. Harass the roommate. Facebook stalk people. Reread story notes. Google search correct spelling of technical term. Look at Google images of hairstyles. (289) You get the idea. The obnoxious part of my personal writing is that I get these flashes sometimes – in the shower, walking down the stairs, on the elliptical or picking my nose in the bathroom stall at work. Sometimes it’s a title. “400 words” flashed through my brain this morning as I was walking down the stairs but that was it. Then I had to think about a story to go with it. (354) “Who’s Eric? he asked bitterly, though I knew that he knew who I was talking about.” Just one phrase at a time. “There were millions of things that I should have asked but I could only say one thing, ‘when are you moving out?'” (401)

400 words

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