A red carpet body

I don’t know how a writer knows when she’s reached the pinnacle of her career, but I’m pretty sure I have. I have written what some might call an opus, what others might call an embarrassment, and what most might call…

an infomercial.

Yeah.
I have.

At my current place of freelance work, I was tasked with the assignment to sell a workout plan. They disguised it as an “informational promo video,” but I knew what they meant. We all knew what they meant as we stared at the floor and twiddled our pens. Some people nodded and pretended to think of a creative way to sell a workout plan. I started thinking of what phrases I could use. “Real results,” “Melt off the weight,” “Menu options.” I’m proud to admit the client bought MY script. You guys, I sold a script in Hollywood. It happens to be an infomercial script, but STILL. It includes some women talking about how they’ve lost 25 pounds. AND… a new term that nobody has ever heard before that I totally made up: red carpet body.

Have the women in my video lost twenty-five pounds? I don’t know. I don’t even know if any women have ever tried such a workout plan. But there they are in my script wearing tank tops and showing off their red carpet bodies.

Am I going to hell? Maybe.

Am I simply on the path to ‘real writer’ and taking any assignment necessary so that I don’t feel like a liar when I say I’m a writer even though an infomercial script is hardly considered ‘writing?’ Yes.

In other news, there’s a show in NY called Blogologues, and it brings ‘stuff from the interwebs’ to the stage. They chose THIS HERE BLOG to be showcased on their stage! IN NEW YORK (where Broadway is!)! Two talented actresses acted out this entry of my blog in New York. I’d like to point out that there are no menu plans or red carpets in that entry. That kind of makes me a real writer, right? Write? (Am I a real writer if I use ‘write’ instead of ‘right’ for dramatic effect?)

In more other news, I have a BOOK COMING OUT. Kinda. Not really a book of my own, but a book that my words are in! It’s an anthology called Dancing at the Shame Prom, and it’s a collection of stories from women who’ve learned that talking about our issues releases them. The back of the book says, “Shame is a powerful thing. It can weigh on your heart and mind, diminish your sense of self-worth, and impact the way you live in the world. But what happens when you share that secret burden?”

You can pre-order it on Amazon and everything! They don’t list me as a writer on Amazon because I don’t have a big enough ‘name.’ But STILL. That kinda means I’m a real writer. RIGHT? WRITE?

In even OTHER news, I went to a writers’ conference where I met with a bunch of agents and editors. I shook hands powerfully, made eye contact, and tried hard to make self-deprecating jokes that made me seem humble yet full of self-worth. Some very important people read my words and told me how to get published in a way that Amazon might credit me for my words. I did not tell them about my “promotional video.” At the end of the conference, I won the editor’s choice award from an agent at Simon and Schuster. She called my writing ‘gorgeous and poignant.’ Huzzah.

I saw her afterward and gave her a hug. She said something like, “You won because the quality of writing at this year’s conference was pretty low.”

But STILL! I will take it. I will take it because it makes writing about red carpet bodies seem irrelevant.

In even OTHER news, I wrote a Taboo Tale with some girls. I’m pretty proud of it:

Writing is what I most love to do. I can sometimes only think with my hands. Trying to get someone to believe that I’m a good writer is the pits though. It shouldn’t matter what others think, but if I ever want to stop writing about red carpet bodies, it’s a necessity. Dangit.

People ask me why I’m busy all the time. It’s because I’m over here TRYING! Man alive. I am trying and trying and trying. And sometimes not sleeping. And many times forgetting where I am or to change my clothes or to breathe. And in the meantime, I’m grasping onto the patience that is only slightly balanced atop the dream of giving up, moving to the suburbs, and popping out a kid in a station wagon (I’m a fan of alternative births). All while I’m writing about weight loss. But I am sure the day will come. That’s what happens when you don’t give up. Right? WRITE?

You better not change the channel when you see my information promo video!
See you in hell.