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Pulitzers are just hope killers

In the immediate future, I will only be able to offer you brief summaries of what is going on in life. I read four Pulitzer-winning books this week and now everything I do is a waste of the internet, obviously. Tip: if you want to go on believing you’re good at something, don’t launch yourself into an intensive study of all the people who are much, much better at it than you are.

My fingers are covered in bandaids because I’ve been typing on my typewriter and what they don’t tell you about that is that your digits disappear between the keys, and because your immediate reaction is to pull them out again, the skin comes off. It seems fairly likely that had I lived in a time before computers, I would have done considerably less writing and a lot more bleeding.

I put my NaNo story on hiatus after I sat down at said typewriter and out came a man called Francis who went and got a job in a bread shop. It’s funny the way stories can just come at you from nowhere and you have to find out what they’re about, even if they turn out to be quite bad. I was even more surprised by this one because I’m not sure Francis would have ever come to my place if I hadn’t bought a typewriter. He is a typewriter character, not a computer character. When I write at my computer, the old story comes out in such a way that makes me think the lines are too close together.

Sometimes my mum sends me text messages that just say, “I bought you a little present.” Eventually she gives me a book or a scarf, but the real present is that she thinks about me while she’s in her own space. There was a time when I didn’t think that would happen.

For the non-typewriter writing, I bought a new iMac. I’d had my old one for four years and I am nothing if not a consumerist wench, so I bought a new one. To be honest, it’s not that much different from the old one, because from the front you can’t see how crazy thin it is anyway, but the people at the Apple Store were so excited to sell me their first one that they took my photo with the sales guy and the iMac in its box. Then I walked back to my car in the rain on my own, so I guess the fame was fleeting.

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Anna Spargo-Ryan

I’m Anna, a digital strategist and writer who likes to drink 'Ice Tea' but doesn't understand why it's not called 'Iced Tea'. By night and occasionally morning, I eat things, write things, berate my children, walk my dogs and hug my chocolate.

  • Carly Findlay

    I love this line:

    “Sometimes my mum sends me text messages that just say, “I bought you a little present.” Eventually she gives me a book or a scarf, but the real present is that she thinks about me while she’s in her own space. There was a time when I didn’t think that would happen.”

    When I hear/read that people are thinking of me, I feel most loved. Thank you again for another beautiful piece.

    December 1, 2012 at 8:47 pm Reply
  • mcgisht

    I thoroughly enjoyed the image you conjured of the art of using a typewriter, injuries and all. Most of all I LOVED the idea of the ‘present’ being the act of being thought of, of being ‘present’ in someone else’s life even when apart. Lovely Anna!

    December 1, 2012 at 10:48 pm Reply
  • mumabulous

    Chances of me reading Pulitzer prize winners are buckleys and none right now. In a tug of war between literature and sleep, sleep will always emerge victorious. Infact you could substitute almost anything for the word literature in that sentence. I will happily continue to waste cyberspace in my own little corner of the interwebz.

    December 3, 2012 at 8:47 am Reply
  • Carli

    Well now I’m quite curious what the books were….

    December 3, 2012 at 12:38 pm Reply
  • amber

    I really, really like this post. All of it.

    December 3, 2012 at 1:37 pm Reply
  • Life In A Pink Fibro

    I want to read about Francis at the bread shop. I do.

    December 3, 2012 at 1:53 pm Reply

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