I submitted articles to NY, Smithsonian, and Atlantic Monthly this week, and you know what one of my friends said? She said, “Maybe you’re aiming too high.”
So I said, “Maybe that shirt makes you look fat.”
Honestly, women can be so bitchy. Maybe she needs yoga or something.
Don’t ever let her know I actually listened and took another stroll through Writer’s Market. Just let her worry about that shirt for awhile.
I shot my feet:
Western RV News - Some may think it’s hard to combine engines, curlers, Zuma Beach, and hot dogs in a 400-word think piece. But some aren't ready to get out on the highway.
I shot from the hip:
Bon Appetit – How many retreads can you slap on baked apples and roasted chicken? So I sent them, “Street Smarts,” a piece about road kill preparations and organic toothpicks.
I shot the clouds again:
Of the tippy top best mags I have yet to torment, there's The Economist. I remember when I actually subscribed to The Economist and proudly carried it around in airports and hotel lobbies. That magazine had huge chunks of text and no cartoons at all. Weird. Still, I did take on one article per issue, just in case anyone ever asked what I was reading. And I sent them ... well I won't say, wait for their shock to wear off.