Organizing your writing life

HOW DRY(ERLESS) I AM: For a minute or two last night, I thought I was being secretly filmed by a reality tv show...maybe like that one from MTV called Boiling Point where they would do something to really piss a person off and clock how long the unwitting contestant could keep their cool.

I had washed a load of whites in my brand spanking new washing machine and then transferred them into my dryer. I had been back at my desk for about 15 minutes when I heard this sound from the laundry room that made me jump out of my chair. I thought the ceiling had caved in. I ran to the laundry room and found a wisp of smoke coming from the dryer, which was still running, but the drum inside was not turning. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, less than a week after my washer died, my dryer decided it was time to check out, too. Maybe it missed the old washer. They had been together for many years.

Okay, so the dryer was ancient. My dad said Carter was probably still president when it was new and my friend Brent had called it a fire hazard when he was helping me move it to the new apartment last year. It does have fake wood veneer around the knobs. It's also rusted, dented and looks like general crap, but man it could dry a load of laundry in no time. I mean burn it to a crisp. That's a real photo of my old dryer. Goodbye, old friend. I spent another night traipsing back and forth to the apartment complex laundry room and contemplating what I could sell on eBay to fund yet another major appliance purchase. Sigh. And there's still the question of the new laptop. Double sigh.

On the upside a lit mag I've long admired indicated they might publish two or more of my poems in 2008, and another publisher asked to read the Wake manuscript. I'm not at liberty to give names at this point, but I am grateful and excited. I need all the good vibes I can get right now.