I love the paint section of Fred Meyer, just because they have those whole displays of paint chips with names like Caribbean Green, Hula Hoop Pink & Fine Wine. I could do that, I know I could. Just set me up in a lab with some paint samples and away I go!
Inferno Orange. Cloudless Summer Sky. Semi-dried pine needle Green.
I'd be happy naming nail polish, too. "Not your mother's Seashell Pink." And so on.
Blurbist.
"Candice Steele has it all: a hot career in publishing, a boyfriend so sexy that even grandmas stop and stare, and flawless fashion sense. There's only one hitch--she's also a werewolf."
Seriously. That blurb may be a paraphrase, but I did read something alarmingly similar to it on the back of a novel. With some slight twists in language, that book could sound a little less like trash (maybe only a little, but that's something) and more, well, interesting:
"Publishing executive, Candice Steele--". "What Candice's lover doesn't know is--". "...but in a dramatic twist of events, Candice becomes--"
No. Nevermind. There's just no saving that one.
Reviewer of books.
I do this one for free, you know.
And would somebody please pay me to write? That would just make my day.
*Though I am ridiculously pleased with my current job (don't worry, Ed).
1 comment:
I wrote a short short story about two years ago...the driving creative force being names of paint and that whole "color psychology" phenominon. It wasn't that good but I enjoied writing it.
Yes, someone should pay you to write. If not for the simple fact that you are more talented than half of the ones getting paid...then I don't know a better reason. And even the ones getting a check or two cut, supposedly they are waaaayyyy too small. But of course, that would make life easy...and we know that will not happen.
I cannot thank you enough for reading my shit. I look forward to your comments too often.
Enjoy life in the West.
Post a Comment