I Run the Gambit On the Way To the Gauntlet

[mallorys_camera]

Snow still lies in dead gray patches like dinosaur bones while spring erupts around it.

I’m going to pitch the Confessions of a Content Broker piece to Wired. What the hell. Yesterday I passed on an assignment to write 500 words about an adoption agency. Keywords they wanted incorporated into the copy? Anal sex, dildo, sex toy and tongue play. No, I am not making that up.

Also yesterday a self-styled high end purveyor of luxury lifestyles sent back a piece I’d done on luxury vacations with a nasty note: You use a lot of meaningless phrases like ‘run the gambit.’ Context was as follows: Luxury hotels run the gambit from the classic elegance of a marble palace on a busy Paris boulevard to a courtyard suite down a hidden alley in New Orleans’ French Quarter.

I blinked twice and thought, Boy, if you don’t know what ‘run the gambit’ means, you are Kloe Kardashian and I don’t want to write for you. Get one of the other hamsters to do your dirty work. And canceled the piece on the spot. The mesothelioma folk have been so lavish in their praise that I am developing a bit of an attitude.

Else? I went to a meeting of Flakey RTT Charter School’s Fundraising Committee and felt like an alien who’d just landed from outer space which, I suppose, in many ways I am. We have launched a new scheme to hold thirties jazz cabaret nights in the historic Clinton House bar, presently being used – what a waste! – as the science classroom. This is a great idea actually so I know it’s going to be shot down.

And I’ve been wondering if the call center telepaths really do have fictional possibilities. The piece would begin with Nick’s recruitment. He’s down on his luck, goes for free meals at the local soup kitchen. Telepaths have major boundary issues, of course, since they’re never sure if it’s their own thoughts they’re thinking or someone else’s so a great many of them are homeless or hopeless alcoholics or marginal in some other way. Government recruiters have been told to look out for telepaths in the places where marginal people congregate, and the “test” is some kind of game like bingo. If someone does spectacularly well at this game on an ongoing basis, then the government knows they’ve found a telepath. Not sure what that game is yet though.

Also, I continue writing the circus memoir but v-e-r-y-s-l-o-w-l-y since I am cranking out so much mesothelioma prose. I’ve been stuck on the part where Our Plucky Heroine watches the tent go up for the first time for almost a week now.

And Chance is avoiding B’s phone calls so it seems unlikely he’ll be working for Prendergas & Fellini again. I don’t have the slightest idea how we’re going to survive either. But I can’t actually think about it, it’s too scary. Instead I walk around the house turning off lights. Two cents off your utility bill here, two cents off your utility bill there – pretty soon you’re talking about real money.

Comments

[slfisher.livejournal.com]

"Telepaths have major boundary issues, of course, since they’re never sure if it’s their own thoughts they’re thinking or someone else’s"

Thank you for understanding this. So few people seem to take this approach to describing telepathy and the couple of times I've had what I called telepathic experiences, that's just what it's been like. "What did you mean, how did I know your plane would be half an hour early? You told me." "When did I tell you?" "Uh....."

turning off lights...

[dinahprincedaly.livejournal.com]

http://dinahprincedaly.livejournal.com/107019.html

[bandicoot.livejournal.com]

"gambit" means a maneuever meant to gain advantage. What I think you meant was "Run the gamut". Either that, or you were saying that the hotels were crooked ;p

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

Ooooh, you're absolutely right! :-)

[slfisher.livejournal.com]

I was thinking that but it didn't seem polite to point it out. :)