Pushing my buttons...

...though I suppose I should not admit that it's possible!

I've had a lousy day. A lousy two days, actually, as I have written two articles, neither of which exactly consumed me with the fiery passion of storytelling. Not because the subjects were so awful -- only one fit that description -- but because I'm sick of working for slow-paying companies, sick of agreeing to work for bottom-feeding publications that don't pay much (I've let myself be talked into a couple of those, at least one of which I'll write tomorrow, just to get it the hell over with and get the damn checks, which I need).

One thing I worry about in situations like this -- aside from the usual worries about paying bills, buying food and general survival -- is that I'm turning out crap. That adds to the frustration, and slows work way down.

Take the story I wrote yesterday as an example. At the beginning, I had no idea what I was going to say; that's actually unusual for me. It meant I had trouble coming up with a good lede, and without that I'm no better than the infinite number of monkeys who didn't write the works of Shakespeare.

Then I started to think about a biography of William Claude Dukinfield I read not long ago, and decided to try using some flowery verbiage for comedic effect. I figured I'd get a laugh out of the editor, even if she sent it back for a rewrite.

She sent me an email today: "Just got through not editing your wonderful piece...I wish you could write everything I edit, but that would surely put me out of a job, or at least reduce me to some sort of administrative role!"

Ahhh, praise! That always reduces me to the approximate state of a puppy having its belly rubbed...makes me forget all the other grief. Really.

Well, it almost makes me forget....

I'm still in a bad mood. But now I'm in a better bad mood.

Still, I wouldn't object if another selected individual or two tried a similar approach to coaxing me into a state of good cheer. Sugar is more attractive than vinegar, and all that....