Monday Mailbag, the pep talk

In an unfortunate turn of events, the mailbag was raided this week. A data-chomping bug wreaked havoc on my inbox, and before I knew what was happening, most of my mail had been destroyed. When I noticed the calamity-in-process, I did what any practitioner of the electronic postal arts would do, I got into my computer 1990s movie Hackers-style, and chased down the little bug. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, if that move reference missed you, don’t feel bad...it’s not you, it’s me. I’m shaking my head in shame, but I digress. I got in there and tugged at the last measly piece of email while it was still clenched in the little pest’s chompers. It was a mighty struggle, not because the little guy was extremely strong, but because an email is a hard thing to get a hold of. It’s a struggle to pull on something so tiny and nebulose. But in the end, I got it. It was shredded to pieces and hard to read, but I pieced it together and successfully saved your...Monday Mailbag!!!

It appears there was a lot more to this question, but I only got the very last little bit. The rest was chewed to bits before I squashed the problem.

It’s hard to make it as a writer today. Do you ever get discouraged?

Pat, Defeated TN

Pat all too often I go off on people’s names after receiving their email, but I’m not gonna do that to you. Yes, I am. Sorry, that was an out and out lie. I wasn’t even thinking of not talking, or writing, about your name...Pat. This is awesome. I know someone is reading The Boo Hag in Tennessee, but that’s all I know. Is she wearing a silky dress? Is he just coming in from a manly hunting trip? I don’t know!!! That’s the beauty of you Pat; you’re very mysterious. Okay, enough about your name...right, like there could ever be enough said about Pat, but let’s move on.

It is hard to make it as a writer. We are in agreement, mon frere. Did you know that frere means brother? It does. I just looked it up. I thought it was important to know what I was writing. I’m sorry, Pat, if you’re not a frere. My bad.

Okay, so do I get discouraged? Hmm, good question. I think it best to really get to the heart of the question before moving forward. To do that, we’re going to need to break down the word discouraged to simplificate the question a little more fully. If there’s one thing I’m known for, it’s finding the simplificaceousness of all things.

Discouraged, let us borrow you for one moment, you’ll be up and at ‘em in no time. So, we break up discouraged into its root words, naturally. We start with di. Di is a single of the more commonly pluralized noun dice. Some people will say the word is spelled die. I don’t like those people. No, I like them, but I just don’t like the way their brains work. Anyway, we have our word di, and voila, we’re on the path to understanding.

Next we take scouraged. Of course scouraged is just a bastardization of the word scourged. Where did the bastardization take place? Probably in West Virginia, as these things often do. The dictionary gives several definitions of the word scourged, but I’m confident, Pat, that the one you’re referring to, is to be whipped.

And, we’re ready to discuss. Do I ever get whipped with di? Interesting. I imagine you mean with a di embedded in the whipping tip. Ha, the whipping tip, that sounds funny. No, Pat, I do not get di-scouraged. I have yet to write anything so passionate to whip people up into a frenzy to a point where they would want to inflict bodily harm on me. Get it “whip people into a frenzy.” I must say, I’m pretty much LingOL right now.

Anyway, Pat, that was kind of an odd question. Did you really think I was gonna say yes to that?

Before wrapping this up, however, I’d like to discuss your statement. It is hard to make it as a writer. And there are times when I feel a little bit, to borrow from a little town in Tennessee, defeated. Like the odds are against me. It’s hard to sell books when your buried in 300,000^th place on amazon’s bestseller list. It’s not exactly easy when somebody tells you they didn’t love your story. It is less than fun when the bestseller you are in your head is confronted with the worstseller you are in reality. But, when it gets tough, I remember that I chose this for myself. I remember how great it is when somebody loves my writing and let’s me know. I remember that one copy sold is more than no copies sold. And I remember what my boy Jacob in Lost, incidentally the best tv show ever, said. Anything that happens before is progress. All this is progress, and the struggle will make the end worth it all the more.

Pat...rick? ricia? This, my confusingly-named friend is your Monday Mailbag!