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Back to Work

November 3, 2009

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The story that came to me during my island residency, smacking into my head like a blow, laid down on paper all map-style so that as the action unfolded, I’d remember where the miniature village was situated relative to the midway, and which stand allegedly sold the greasiest fries.

The submission to Meatpaper about the weekend I learned to take the face off a rabbit and stew the rest up super-delicious.

The piece about foreign-language recipes run through “Google.translate” and the dishes we’d end up preparing if we followed it to the letter. Like a new kind of culinary challenge, would it be funnier if you had to follow steps exactly as laid out in the wonky translation (i.e.: no using common sense or intuition to interpret garbled phrases), or if the goal was to decipher the recipe and try and make the dish turn out ok?

The five job postings I printed the other day and have to craft perfect resumés, each tailored a little differently to suit the ad.

The thank-you letter to my Granny and Granddad, whose birthday cheque (received, embarrassingly, way back in September) paid for an amazing cookbook, which in turn inspired my school application.

The short stories for Barrelhouse (due date: really soon).

The food pitch for Bust.

The short non-fiction essay and the even shorter short story, for Normal School’s literary magazine, their brief submissions reading period slipping away, tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.

The series of dessert photos to CuizineArt, and the companion essay about cake and love. This has been in the works since the journal launched almost a year ago and does not yet resemble anything even close to “ready to go”.

The games-focused story for Tin House, due two days ago. Fuck damn shit heck. Perhaps I can sweet talk the editor into accepting something two days late. Perhaps perhaps perhaps.

The story I’ve been tackling in hopes it finds a home in the New England Review; an overly ambitious venue, I suspect, but worth a shot.

The recipe for Kouign Amann, which I have printed and misplaced at least three times, and which I fully intend to master, which means actually baking the damn thing once, twice, thrice or more. It requires cold butter and patience and a very hot oven, and I can therefore be excused for not attempting this mid-summer, but really, if we’re honest here? Summer ended at least seven weeks ago.

And with that, it’s back to work.

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4 Comments leave one →
  1. November 5, 2009 1:04 am

    I love this map–all your writing laid out. I wish I had such an ambitious plan. Instead my territory is two islands with a few bridges to nowhere jutting out from craggy shores.

    • welltailored permalink*
      November 5, 2009 9:53 am

      Perhaps, like wedding planners and life coaches and so on, I have found my calling: writing project cartographer! People can tell me their stories and I can draft a visual map for them while they talk. Ohhhh…that would actually be a really fun project unto itself.

  2. patrick connor permalink
    November 9, 2009 12:09 am

    This is a crazy cornucopia of promises filled, and those still left to fulfill. Please provide links, at least once they are done. Please!

    • welltailored permalink*
      November 9, 2009 9:48 am

      Mr Connor, your wish is my command. Stay tuned…

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