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Joy Comes in the Morning
yatimk
This was a down week for me. While I got more writing done than usual, sales of my books still haven't picked up, even Love through the Eyes of an Idiot. And while everyone says they love my writing, the marketing challenge of getting them to fork over actual cash for it— You know how while you're climbing a mountain, you can't see the top? You look ahead, and no matter how long you've been climbing, all you see is mountain, stretching off into the distant sky. And you get tired and run down, and you wonder whether it's even worth climbing all the way to the top, because it would be so much easier to turn around and just hit bottom. Well, that marketing challenge still stands as a endless mountain climb before me.

Similarly, my new résumé stirred great interest in one recruiter, who seemed to realize how great of a find I would be for her client. But I knew that her client wouldn't go for it, and I was right, because even just talking to her, I noticed a couple of warning signs that indicated that it was probably a poor client. So, dodged a bullet there, didn't I? And I'm still broke.

I also started work on a short story about a man who has decided to commit suicide, set in a fancy restaurant, because he's decided to splurge for his last meal, his last supper.

On the other hand, I managed to learn the Mourner's Kaddish, the whole thing, so if a loved one were to drop dead tomorrow, at least I could say it correctly.

Ironically, all these thoughts and experiences remind me of a song that an old friend of mine used to sing occasionally, "Joy Comes in the Morning," a song that I too learned but haven't performed in many years. It's a song that he probably learned from Jimmy Swaggart, back in the day, one of the things that Jimmy actually did right:



-TimK




Some posts this week I've written or found interesting enough to comment on:




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Thanks!

(Anonymous)
Thanks for the link love, Tim!

Suldog

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