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Now John at the bar is a friend of mine. He gets me my drinks for free.
And he's quick with a joke or to light up your smoke, but there's someplace that he'd rather be.
He says, "Bill, I believe this is killing me," as a smile ran away from his face.
"Well, I'm sure that I could be a movie star if I could get out of this place."

Friday, December 15, 2006

Steve is just this guy, you know.

Well, I changed my profile to show my real name. Hi, I'm Steve and I'm a writer (Hi, Steve). I usually get a few hundred words a week...

That's how I always feel when I introduce myself in a writers group, like I'm in AA or something.

Anyway. I think I'm making more of an arse, I mean, a name for myself and it's time to be proud of that name. Well, for writing I always was proud of my name. By the happy chance of it I'll be shelved next to Steven Brust if I ever get a book out. And that is just way too cool for me.

So here I am. I almost have my decade chip. Someday I'll be paid to publish my writing. On that note, I still haven't heard from the Writer's of the Future Contest about "My Favorite War Stories." So I figure I'll either be a finalist (always a bridesmaid, never a bride, boo hoo), or I might have crossed the barrier. Yesterday I was inexplicably happy. Maybe that was it.

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