>Next Tuesday, Husband is going to a conference in Key Biscayne. Happily, I am tagging along. There's pretty much nothing to do in Key Biscayne except see a lighthouse and sit around on the beach (I hate sand, so this opportunity is wasted on me), so I originally planned to get some writing done. I need to polish up my essay on India that I hope to submit to a travel magazine. (Currently, based on a new intro and my blogs, it is an unwieldy 10,000 words. It should be no more than 2,000 words, so I've got some work ahead of me. As much as it pains me, my speculation about what I might actually be saying in Hindi (may I suck your cock?) as opposed to what I want to be conveying (how are you?) is going to go.) I also planned to work on my memoir about growing up. It will be a very nice retreat with lots of work getting accomplished. Plus, as a bonus, Dr. P will also be there part of the time and I am going to help her in a quest for an apartment for her June move there.
Dr. P, however, also threw an interesting new angle into my plans. She was reading Glamour magazine yesterday when she came across a page advertising the Glamour essay contest. Basically, the contest asks for a 2,500-4,000 word personal essay. The winner gets $10,000. (Ironically, they will not guarantee that they actually print the essay, but as Des pointed out, she'll take the money regardless.)
The contest has my undies in a bunch, put the fire under my feet, got ants in my pants, or whatever little hyperbole works in this situation. See, I planned to write a heeelarious chapter on the first time I got my period (something I think I wrote up here at one point) and then go into how it never really worked right, then stopped completely when I was 17, and then led me to a 13 year quest to find out what was wrong with me. The chapter will also have something about how I decided that I didn't want to have kids, and yet the eventual diagnosis of PCOS weirded me out anyway. Blah blah blah. But I think it is good. Probably not good enough to win, as I am sure that some woman will submit a story about how she escaped from some awful situation in Bosnia or Darfur and is now doing relief work with survivors of tragedies and it will deserve to win far more than a mundane but hilarious story about the rights of passage of semi-privileged American girls and failed reproductive systems, but whatever. I will enjoy working on it, and will be happy to finish something that I am proud of.
And it will be exceptionally nice to have a little writing retreat for myself, although clearly I get plenty done without retreats. This is my 1,000th post on CUSS! More pictures from India to follow.