A Bunch Of Reasons I Have Trouble Getting Published

My fellow bloggers Merry and Angelique (who also posts on Breaking the Mirror) have tagged me for one of those Six Weird Things memes.

Now, I have been hesitating about posting another one of these weirdness memes. Not because I'm ashamed of being weird. No, I'm a woman who embraces her inner weirdness and greatly admires others who do, like my blogging pal Ello, who can make me laugh so hard I spill beverages on my keyboard. And it isn't because I don't have enough weird stuff to post, either; if anything, I'm spoiled for choices. No, my reasons for taking my time over this post are quite the contrary: This blog is already so much about me that even a self-absorbed person like myself has to take a step back and worry about overload.

So, because I'm really not quite as self-absorbed as I come off in this blog (almost, but still not quite), I want to do something a little different here. I have picked, at random, a number of blogs whose writers fill me with awe, and I've found some way to link them all to my own weird attributes. Some of these blogs you will be familiar with, some you may not. But I firmly believe that it is talent like this that has kept me from getting published. (See how deftly I manage to whip it around to me, me, me? That's a special skill for sure, but is it recognized? Is it rewarded?)

If you don't see your name here, by the way, that does NOT mean that I don't envy you and wish you'd stop writing so well. It means that I've got repetitive stress issues, and I don't want to bring down Blogger. I'm betting I'll be doing more of these weirdness posts -- if you've got it, flaunt it, right? -- and I'll get to you eventually,whether you like it or not.

1) I come from a fanatically cat-loving family. If anyone can top our highest number (21, one incredible summer), feel free and call me on this. Both of my parents brought home stray cats, as does the gifted and generous Kanani, even my father, who was allergic to cats, as is my dog-owning, cat-loving blogging pal Katie Alender, who has also written a YA novel that sounds terrific, as has Danette, who might or might not like cats, but is another fine writer. (Confusing paragraph, yes, but I had to pack a lot in there.)

Eventually we became known as the weird people who would take anybody's cats and people started dumping their spare cats at our house. We invariably took them in and fed them. We were rather poor, and my parents refused to take them to the veterinarian, so my sisters and I pooled our babysitting money and started getting them fixed. When we grew up and got boyfriends, the one question always asked was Does he like cats? Race, religion, occupation and intelligence were pretty much secondary issues, but a no answer to the cat question was unsupportable. Cat lovers with allergies were sorely pitied; Katie, I feel your pain.

2) I can eat just about anything as long as it isn't of animal origin, unlike my wonderful friend and fellow blogger Carolie, who is also a talented and creative cook who once ran her own restaurant, worked as a wardrobe master for the circus, and writes incredibly interesting posts and letters.

3) I am a Californian living in Scotland, raising kids who are a weird hybrid of cultures. Sam is my counterpart: a Scot living in California, raising kids who I'm guessing call her Mom. Sam has a huge following, which is well deserved. If she wrote a book, I would wait in line to buy it; the library is great, but you have to return the books you borrow and I wouldn't want to return hers. Her writing is so good and so utterly zany, it defies description. If you're a struggling writer hoping to publish, you'll be as sick with envy as I am every time I read her posts.

4) Since I'm a Californian living in Scotland, I'm obviously an expatriate, as are the marvelously talented Christine Eldin, Kim and Mr Gorilla Bananas (the only gorilla on my blogroll, to my knowledge), and the aforementioned Carolie and Sam. Actually, I suspect that Mr Bananas lives in the U.K., but I'm betting from his writing that he has been an expatriate. And besides, a gorilla living in the human world is arguably an expatriate wherever he goes. If you think you can write, please go and look at his blog -- not that he needs any more readers. Kim, who is the reason I started a blog in the first place, has a unique ability to suffer fools: he talked me through all the technical stuff, and we're talking serious foolishness here. He doesn't need any more readers either, but I am still honor-bound to direct you to his blog. Before I started reading blogs like these, I used to think I could write too. A former short-term expatriate and a depressingly confidence-tapping fine writer is Susan Sandmore, who can also find sharks' teeth and decide when she is going to give birth. Whoever says we only get one great gift in life ought to go read her blog; I reckon she's been given someone else's share. If she weren't so nice and amazingly generous with her spot-on critiques, I'd mind a lot more.

5) I grew up with rather old-fashioned, religious parents, as did Carole, a fellow hick who happens to write deeply moving, honest, and reflective posts. In fact, I come from a long line of religious fanatics, including lay preachers, missionaries, and random religious nutters, and I long to talk with Carole about this some day, if she manages to visit Scotland while we're still here. A background like ours pretty much shapes your life, like it or not, and I find that I readily bond with others who've had similar upbringings. My parents were also serious hoarders, like Kathie's parents. Until I found Kathie's blog, I assumed I was the only one who had parents like this. It is one thing to have hoarding parents, of course; it is quite another to be able to write about them with humor and compassion. Kathie's post about hoarding is so good that I go back to read it whenever I need a lift, and it never disappoints.

6) John Kennedy Toole's A Confederacy of Dunces is one of my favorite books, something I share with Kara, another fine writer. Not that I begrudge her. Not that I begrudge any of you; my only question is Why do there have to be so many of you?