So, anyway…
Sometimes I entertain suspicions that I’ve unwittingly made a deal with God. Or with a god. Or with the devil. (Can he intercept your prayers? Maybe.) I think I’ve unwittingly forfeited any good thing that might occur in my life besides the success of my writing career. And this hoped/wished/prayed-for success has yet to take place.
If God/god/devil called me on the phone and said, “Look – you can have a successful writing career, but only if you never win the lottery, never find true love, and never get below a size sixteen. Still wanna do it?”
then I’d say, “Will my children get to be happy?”
and if he/she/it said, “Yes,”
then I’d say, “Okay… then… yes.” But I’d say it in a very miserable tone of voice.
Luckily for me, I don’t really believe in any of that shit. Therefore, my life is going to be really, really good. (As soon as I become a successful writer, I mean.)
