I finally have time to write. Still looking for a job, taking time to write in the meanwhile. But, as per usual, it seems like I'm cursed.
Exhibit A) I wrote a short story about a priest who has some difficulties because he's in love with one of his parishioners. About three months later, the news broke about the infamous Father Cutie (pronounced coot-ee-ay, not "cutie", BTW) getting caught smooching his girlfriend on the beach. Priest with a girlfriend? Done been done.
Exhibit B) I write another short story in which the pivotal scene of the story takes place near the Lake Eola fountain in Orlando. As I'm putting the finishing touches on the story, lightning strikes said fountain and knocks it out of commission.
Exhibit C) I have a long history of family members falling ill whenever I tell myself I am going to be really serious about my writing. This trend is continuing as I have not just one but two in-laws who were recently hospitalized. The Curse! Or potentially just bad genes.
Coincidence? Remember that show "Wings" with the cello playing lunch-counter girl, Helen? Helen had given up on her music when an amazing opportunity lands in her lap. She'd thought her days as a musician were over but now she grabs her cello and boards a plane to Boston (with the whole cast, natch) to make her debut with the Boston Symphony. And.... the plane crashes. Of course! I can really relate to her.
But, I have to put superstition aside and press on. If everyone can please stay healthy, I would really, really appreciate it.
Oh, and, sorry about that whole fountain thing, Orlando. Maybe a kiss from Tim Daly will lift the curse.