Tetris and SALLY'S BIRTHDAY!
Virginia Woolf said, "Arrange what pieces come your way." (Is she speaking about tetris? before it was even invented?)
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SALLLLLLLLYYYYYY!
writer boys will always burn girls for a good story.
Kinda bumming me out, but only because she is so right on, Jennifer Weiner on why writer's disparage each other in reviews and stuff:
"And I know how she feels. I used to be a reporter, so I know, probably better than most, how the process works. Reporters -- particularly the ones my age -- have been told their whole lives how smart and talented and what wonderful writers they are. They do well in high school and go on to fancy-schmancy colleges. They spend their higher-education years lulled by the chorus from professors and parents about how great they are, how smart, how sharp, how insightful and funny. They graduate, believing they're going to set the world on fire. Then they get jobs at newspapers and magazines penning features and profiles that require them to shut their mouths, set their healthy egos and oversized dreams aside, sit quietly behind a notebook or a tape recorder and chronicle the doings of people who, in many cases, are less smart, less talented, less interesting than they are. At least, that's how I frequently felt when I was a reporter. How did this happen? I'd think, as the starlet or singer or politician or comedian du jour babbled away. How is it that she's rich and famous, and I still have to type in the school lunch menus? What went wrong?"
on the 18th, down a bit She also advises against writers getting master's degrees.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SALLLLLLLLYYYYYY!
writer boys will always burn girls for a good story.
Kinda bumming me out, but only because she is so right on, Jennifer Weiner on why writer's disparage each other in reviews and stuff:
"And I know how she feels. I used to be a reporter, so I know, probably better than most, how the process works. Reporters -- particularly the ones my age -- have been told their whole lives how smart and talented and what wonderful writers they are. They do well in high school and go on to fancy-schmancy colleges. They spend their higher-education years lulled by the chorus from professors and parents about how great they are, how smart, how sharp, how insightful and funny. They graduate, believing they're going to set the world on fire. Then they get jobs at newspapers and magazines penning features and profiles that require them to shut their mouths, set their healthy egos and oversized dreams aside, sit quietly behind a notebook or a tape recorder and chronicle the doings of people who, in many cases, are less smart, less talented, less interesting than they are. At least, that's how I frequently felt when I was a reporter. How did this happen? I'd think, as the starlet or singer or politician or comedian du jour babbled away. How is it that she's rich and famous, and I still have to type in the school lunch menus? What went wrong?"
on the 18th, down a bit She also advises against writers getting master's degrees.

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SALLY SALLY!
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