Tuesday, October 12, 2010

old t-shirt

The other day I tossed one of my favorite t-shirts towards my husband declaring it could now take up residence in the rag bin.

"Who gave it to you?" he asked.

"Bob's (an ex boyfriend) mother."

"Oh wow, how old were you then?"

"About fifteen or sixteen."

Mind you I'm fifty-five now.

I didn't share this with you just to show what a hoarder I am. (Ok I am a hoarder but you can walk through my house and not just in man-made paths.) If I like something I keep it. I don't follow a trend unless it appeals to me. I'm not what you'd call a fashionista.

I thought about "trends" in the writing business. I've heard write what you like but I've also heard certain genres are dead or there's no audience for that subject matter. Editors/agents won't even look at them so why bother. Hmm, why bother. Maybe you do because that's what's in your head and it's pounding to get out. It could be because trends are fickled, what's here today may well be gone within the next year or two or possibly a little more. Trying to keep up with trends is like trying to catch a train with your shoelaces tied together; the possiblity of making it before it leaves is slim.

So put on that old comfortable t-shirt, plop your butt down and write what is inside you.

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