Writing, Hypocrisy, and the Art of the Tag by Deb Kristy

I interrupt our usual Sunday programming (um, there usually IS no Sunday program, but you know what I mean) to bring you an extra special surprise post of great importance, wisdom, and wit. First, I read something so fabulous I had to share, and then I got tagged by the talented JT Ellison, and, well, I break out in hives if I don’t do what I’m told, so, without further ado and self-indulgent, freshly cleaned keyboard tapping…

Do check out Derek Nikitas’s post on Killer Year today; lovely writing, excellent food-for-thought.

And now, on to my very first tag from JT Ellison at Murderati:

List 5 things you’d like to do someday. The dreams you’d like to realize. The goals you’ve set for yourself.

1) I want to make a decent living by writing novels

2) I want to maintain a happy, healthy, fun, engaged marriage

3) I want to remain mentally and physically healthy and active

4) I want to see Alaska

5) I want to live on the beach

Name one thing you’d love to do, but you know will NEVER happen:

I would love to cliff dive, but I never will. I will not overcome my fears and fly, unencumbered off terra firma and plunge into shimmering turquoise waters. I will not emerge from the surf and towel off my bronzed, toned body, clad in a black, simple yet elegant one-piece, my eyes alight with wonder and joy, and tell the others waiting for me on the beach, their faces filled with admiration and longing, to Just Do It, using the towel to squeeze water from my long hair as I bend sideways without any apparent ripple in my waist, breathlessly ending with, “It’s amazing!”

No. I will not do these things.

Because I want to live.

6 Replies to “Writing, Hypocrisy, and the Art of the Tag by Deb Kristy”

  1. Kristy, I want to live on a beach, too. I’m with you on the cliff diving scenario. You’ll never catch me plummeting into water from great heights. Although we can fantasize about how Bond girl great we would look after getting out of the water. I tried skydiving some twenty-five years ago, just so I could be with my skydiver boyfriend, but the jump master took me aside after my disastrous third jump and said he really thought someone who exited the plane screaming, should find another hobby.

  2. Agree

    Agree!!! Even if I cliff dove, I could never manage the “bronze, toned body” part. More likely I would be mistaken for an albino dolphin, and my bikini top would pop off, and then I would just give up and float out to sea instead of emerging triumphantly.

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