Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Pretentious Literary Pretentions

Ok, I see myself as an author, or at least a writer. Anyone can write or at least string words together in some sort of order and pass them off as writing. Some so it better than others and some do it very well. Since starting my writing class I have developed a new appreciation for the art and craft of writing. I think I have learned a lot, but need to continue to write in order to maintain my progress.
This last week has not been a good week for stringing words on a cord the putting them on paper as I finally got moved into my den and got back into building models and have been watching House, MD. Work has been stressful in a strange sort of way and I am also looking around at new employment opportunities. The current one would involve moving, something I am not sure I am ready for. This unsettled feeling makes if hard for me to concentrate, let alone write.
Friday I ran into a friend, who put me onto Tin House, a literary journal (that sounds so pretentious) that is published in Oregon. It is good to read these short stories and poems and compare them to what I may or may not want to write. Some of the stories really struck a cord; especially the one about the teenage girl who had just given birth.
My problem is, do I really need another magazine to read? I already get several and usually do not have time to give them justice. Heavy Metal, Wired, BlackPowder Shooting, Military Modeling and The Economist are all good. OK... that is an eclectic reading list, but at least I gave up Playboy. Tin House would probably be a good addition to my list, don't you think?

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