WRITING: Gee, that’s never happened before…

Just ignored the first 300 words of a new story and started a new one with same basic concept beneath it. The first seemed too flippant, too chummy, too much like a woman's sardonic view of her life. Because this woman's life really is shitty has a serious question, it's beyond sarcasm. I'm not writing for a woman's magazine (uhboy, don't beat me up here on this; we all know that genres are geared to a particular audience of readers).

So this is the new start:

It is New Year’s Day and I’m walking down to the deli for milk and the sky is so blue it makes me want to cry. We didn’t need milk–I threw it down the sink so I could get out of the house. Relationships need some space, you know?

It is almost eight in the morning and I’m hoping the deli is open today because if it isn’t we’re screwed. Why is life such a pattern of this means that, and if you go this way then you’ll miss that, and like a giant looped hypertext map it’ll mess up your head just to know the choices you’ve got.

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