Today I’m grateful to Bucky Katt for lowering the bar. This first draft of my middle grade novel is at least a couple rungs above a list of the stuff I’ve eaten today.
That’s not to say I want anyone reading what I’ve written so far . . .
This old Get Fuzzy strip does not represent any personal animosity toward poets.
Rather, it’s more a statement on my current state of mind.
Specifically, my desire to punch something.
Although, stabbing would be equally therapeutic.
As Zebu would say, “Mom’s feeling a little stabby today.”
“Stabby and punchy.”
Shouldn’t there be a t-shirt or bumpersticker?