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Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Neighbor’s Fancy Monogrammed Pen

February 19, 2010

In theory all I really need to write is a computer with a word processing program and maybe an internet connection. Or I could be really old-school and bare bones and do it with nothing but a notebook and a pencil.

But I want things! Here are the writing related items I want which, at my level of income, are impossible to obtain.

Writer’s Market for 2010: I have a Writer’s Market. It’s from 2007 and my mom bought it for me. I would dearly love to be able to buy the latest version of the book every year, but they’re quite pricey books. I feel like I’m being ripped off when I shell out more than 30 dollars for a book that will become obsolete at year’s end. I really don’t understand why the Writer’s Market is so expensive. The only people who find it useful are writers. Also, the old version is not entirely obsolete, since it does list websites for some publications. Even if the editor has changed in the past three years, the website probably hasn’t, so I can go look up guidelines and whatnot there with relative ease.

Scrivener: Oh, how I want thee. Let me count the ways. No, really, I won’t bother to count, but Scrivener is a really awesome tool for writers. Unfortunately, the bastards have released it for Mac OS only, which means that I would need to buy a fancy new Mac in order to run it. A fancy new Mac is really expensive. So for now I’ll just drool over the specs.

My own office: My apartment is pretty small. I write on my laptop, which sits on a coffee table. I usually sit on the floor while I work. I seem to have a greater tolerance for sitting cross-legged on the floor than  most other people I know (must be the Asian genes), but my back does still hurt sometimes. I would also feel more official and writerly sitting behind a desk in a cool chair that swivels around so that I can spin in a circle when no one is looking (and no one is ever looking). Also, having to get up and go somewhere every morning instead of walking into the living room and plopping myself down would make this feel more like a real job and less like a…thing I do.

My own library: A writer’s gotta read. As it is, I have so many books that they don’t all fit on my bookcases. Some are stacked on the floor, some are crammed into milk crates, and some remain in cardboard boxes stuffed under the kitchen table (which is where I put them when I moved here two years ago). I always want more books, too. So I need a place to store them all, a glorious place with Oriental carpets and ceiling-high shelves. And in my own library, if I want to hang from the ceiling making monkey noises, ain’t nobody gonna come around and shush me.

One Comment leave one →
  1. Summer permalink
    February 20, 2010 2:27 am

    amen on the office… wish i had one soooo bad

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