Interview with Dr. Phil, back for IWSG!

Hi, Friends,
I stopped doing the IWSG/Insecure Writer's Support Group long ago. But I missed the group and my alternatively factual interviews. Alex is so kind, I'm not sure he ever dropped me from the list. So all things considered, I brought back a biggie. He's 6'4". He's Dr. Phil. And he's here for an interview.

Robyn: Come on out here, Doc! 

Dr. Phil hands his rifle to wife Robin and walks to center stage. "How ya all doin'? I said 'How ya all doin'?"

Robyn: Why do you always repeat yourself, Philanderer? 

Dr. Phil: Look, I don't know what you're talkin about, little one. I said, 'I don't know what you're talkin about down there!'

Robyn: Excuse me, dude. You're not a real doctor. You gave up your license years ago. A questionable license it was, too. You'd hired a client to work as an employee. Hm. The station kept you on as "entertainment" while you pretend to do therapy. Unethical much? And you cheated on your first wife. And you steal quotes from others and pretend they're yours. Yet you don't have an insecure nerve in your body. How do you do it, Philayofish?

Dr. Phil: Look, it's time to get real about your life. I said 'It's time to get real about your life!' If you don't have confidence in yourself, nobody else will. I said --

Robyn: I heard you! I quoted you in my book too. I mean, you're not all bad, but you are an annoying egomaniac, Philosophical b.s.er.

Dr. Phil: Let me tell you, I've conducted an extensive study. It took years of research and the most highly trained professionals. We determined your needs. Our crew looked long and hard --

Robyn starts to salivate at the thought of her needs finally being met in a long, hard way.

Dr. Phil continues: We found the perfect intensive neuro so so psycho facility for middle aged sex starved women of abnormally short stature who are ravenously addicted to - shall we say? - treats.

Robyn's beaming. Oh yes, Phillycheesesteak. We shall say treats! Woohoo! Robyn partakes in fist pumping and frenetic dance moves.

Dr. Phil: Look, just go! I said 'Just go!' Dr. Phil signals two very big security guards to escort a hyperactive Robyn off the stage.

Robyn: Thank you, Philharmonic! Thank you! You're the best! I said 'You're the best!'
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On a different and very sad note, in my eight years of blogging, I've spoken to half a dozen blog friends by phone. One of them is Melissa Bradley. Melissa and I shared men bashing stories and other nonsense, and she'd make me laugh hysterically. When I spoke to her approx. two weeks ago, and she was in hospice, Melly told me: "You know what they served me for dinner the other night? Bratwurst! YOU DON'T SERVE BRATWURST UNLESS YOU DO IT RIGHT. And that means NOT WITH KETCHUP PACKETS!" How could I not laugh heartily? Melissa called me her bloggy sister. She was a feisty, saucy, hilarious, creative, heartfelt and very loving woman who fought a grueling battle with unfaltering gusto and optimism. Ultimately, cancer put an end to that fight this past Sunday.  Among Melissa's final words to me were "I'll pray for you." That speaks to her selfless character. 

I love you, bloggy sis. Your memory is forever a blessing. Thank you for all your gifts to literature, your loved ones, and the world. Rest in Peace, dear heart.
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Take gentle care, my friends.
I love you and life is precious. 
Keep a smile. Better yet, laugh heartily. And repeat. And then some more.

IWSG Finale, Macaulay Culkin for Hire!

Dear friends, I've decided to end my IWSG run with this, my 45th IWSG post. Alex has been incredibly patient and forgiving, letting me disrupt his amazing group month after month with vapid idiots like Tori Spelling, Bruce Jenner (I kinda miss him), Ashton Kutcher, and many more. Thank you, Alex. 

I'll still do interviews here and there, and I don't plan to scale down on my blogging. I'm simply letting go of this one writing commitment, to focus on publishing another book or three.

Sadly, this leaves stagehand Macaulay Culkin out of work. And he hadn't had a job since pre-puberty. [He hasn't had talent since then either.] Oy, I feel a little guilty. But hey, none of us can save the world. Right?  And I'm not completely heartless, so I'm going to promote his skills here. Hey, Culkster! Come on out here! Let's show off your book!

Macaulay Culkin ambles towards Robyn, a small book in hand. He stops directly in front of her, drops his book at her feet, fervently raises both middle fingers, shouts "F*k you, b*tch!" and dashes through the Exit doors. Robyn picks up the book and holds it in front of the camera. 

Ladies and Gentlemen, he's been hiding his talents from us all along. In 2006, Culkin published a so-called book called junIor. And he's accumulated a grand total of 38 reviews in nine years! Let's look at a few reviews. Robyn pulls two index cards out of her pocket. This one says, "That's 20 minutes of my life I will never get back!" Another tells us they "Threw this book in the trash where it belongs before finishing it."

It seems fame doesn't always amount to book sales.  This is good, right? It means that people still want to read viable writing, so we got this. We're viable, or we can fake it. Woohoo!

I'm going to conclude with three pieces of advice for all insecure writers everywhere:

1) Keep writing.

2) Don't ever bore. This is a writer's biggest crime. There's far too much boring writing out there. I mean, feel free to write boring stuff all you want, but do not share any of it. Everything you publish in a blog, book, or bathroom stall should captivate and entertain. Otherwise, kindly keep it to yourself.

3) Keep writing.

Thank you, folks.
PS Keep writing.

Thank you, Alex, and to the Insecure Writer's Support Group. It's been great fun.
Keep writing.

Taylor Swift is Here!: IWSG

It's time to join the IWSGers in being loudly, proudly insecure. We encourage and support each other's writing journeys too. This ongoing monthly gathering is thanks to Alex. He's a gift, that Alex.
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Robyn /  Taylor Swift pretend quotes / Taylor Swift actual quotes

Ladies and gentlemen, and Macaulay Culkin, today we welcome one of the richest, most famous, and most popular singer-songwriters of all time! She dominates the industry, and she dated John Mayer! What more is there to say? Here's Taylor Swift!

Dressed in all white, Taylor steps sexily towards center-stage. The audience roars and whistles, as our camera-man scans the crowd. An all White, young, clean-cut mix of Taylor's exes beckons her return to their arms. Taylor quickly surveys the crowd and bursts into song: "We are never ever ever ever getting back together!" John Mayer stands up, flips her off, and storms out the Emergency Exit.

Robyn turns to Taylor, smiling: Well, who needs him, right? All that 'say what you need to say. Say what you need to say. Say what you need to say,' and he never gets to the f*n point. Do you see the irony?
Taylor appears confused. Oh, no. I don't, I don't like to iron. She giggles.

Oh, sweetie. It's a good thing you're so talented and you have beautiful hair and...Robyn eyes Taylor's long sultry legs...Ever consider dating a woman half your height and twice your age?
Slightly shocked but ever-graceful, Taylor composes herself for a response. Well, I'm actually very happy with my current sweetheart, Calvin.  She takes a few small steps back, further from Robyn.

In fairy tales the bad guy is very easy to spot, Taylor continues. The bad guy is always wearing a black cape so you always know who he is. Then you grow up and you realize that Prince Charming is not as easy to find as you thought. You realize the bad guy is not wearing a black cape and he's not easy to spot; he's really funny, and he makes you laugh, and he has perfect hair.

Robyn rolls her eyes. It really isn't all about looks though, right?
No. There's more to life than dating the boy on the football team.
Do you have any words of wisdom for insecure writers, sweetie?
Taylor smiles proudly and looks at the camera. You can write a book about how to ruin someone's perfect day. That seems awfully anti-Taylor Swift of you. I thought you were going to belt out that profound song you wrote. You know, with all kinds of deep, insightful lyrics: 'Shake it off. Shake it off. Shake it off. Shake it off. Shake it off. Shake it off.'
Sure. Taylor smiles, then launches into Shake it off! Shake it off! Shake it off!
The curtains drop, blocking Taylor from view and we cut to a commerical.
 
Colour Me Swiftly has arrived! With two Amazon reviews and an average rating of 2.5 stars, take a look at this adult coloring book:

If Colour Me Swiftly doesn't do it for you, how about Colour Me Good Harry?

This one has a solid five-star review! A review. As in, one. One review. *Robyn sits erect, with chin towards ceiling.* The book's been out since last year.

We hope all this nonsense makes you more confident in your craft. If not, shake it off. Shake it off. Shake it....

Chef Gordon Ramsay, The Ruthless Critic: IWSG

 google images

Hi, dear friends.
   We're back with another edition of the IWSG/Insecure Writer's Support Group, founded by our beloved Alex J. Cavanaugh.

   We all know the harsh critic, right? This person suggests major overhaul and offers no positive feedback. They might even go so far as to rip you to shreds in hopes of sabotaging your efforts.
   Well, when you're slammed by knife-piercing, soul-crushing critique, accept the criticism for what it is: garbage. Then pick yourself up and turn to nicer, more grounded people for input. Ruthless critics reveal only one thing: they have issues. Don't let them win.
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Chef Ramsay's dialogue in red / Robyn in black / Stagehand Macaulay Culkin in blue

I'll now role-model how to interact with a raging critic, Ladies and Gents. For this purpose, I've invited one of the most ruthless of them all, Chef Gordon Ramsay. Yo dude, come on out her, Gore Dung!

Chef Gordon Ramsay walks onto the stage, a raging lunatic. What the f*k is this place? It's rubbish, pure rubbish! And what's all that sh*t all over you, you little f*n midget?
Laughing, Robyn responds: It's Dollar Store chocolate pudding, Gore Dung. What's that? Robyn leans to the side and points towards his rear. What's what?!  The thing that's been up your *ss for years? Oh, I don't have time for this nonsense. You're pathetic! You hear me! Pathetic!

Robyn nods at stagehand Macaulay Culkin, who pokes his head out from behind the stage curtains.  Naked French Dancers! Macaulay squeals in a playful, high-pitched voice. Naked French Dancers! Where? Chef Ramsay dashes towards the curtains, unknowingly stepping onto a huge fishnet made of miscellaneous drug paraphernalia. Macaulay yanks a long rope attached to the net. Ramsay is snatched up by the net, which soars towards the stage ceiling.

You f*n little runts! I'll f*n sue your f*n *sses! Get me the f*k out of here!
 Robyn gives Macaulay a high-five and a Dollar Store chocolate pudding for his efforts.
All in a day's work, she tells him. Best work you've done - the only work you've done - since Home Alone, dude. Nice.

Rib

Not Again! IWSG and Martha Stewart

Actual Martha Stewart quotes       Martha      //  Robyn (plain bold)
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So sorry, dear readers, but I can't keep Martha from invading my studio--especially not when she knows she'll have an audience during Alex's monthly IWSG. Martha saunters to center-stage, grabs her crotch, and launches into a series of pelvic thrusts. Damnit lady! What does it take to get rid of you? Martha stops mid-thrust. Huh? Suddenly enraged, she shouts: I want you to know that I am innocent - and that I will fight to clear my name! Since you're here for the fight, Martie, tell me, how much did you pay for this creative book cover? Robyn holds up one of Martha Stewart's many boring, horribly designed, and difficult to understand cookbooks with recipes that - if followed - may likely land you in the Emergency Room.
Martha pulls a flask of Jack Daniels out of her Martha Stewart bag and takes a swig. Oh yeah, well I was married for 30 years. Isn't that enough? I've had my share of dirty underwear on the floor. I ain't touching that, lady. I just wanna say that I just published a book, and it looks a lot better than yours. Peggy Sue could do better. And I had to confront my insecurities head on, you know, and I don't mean anything sexual by that because there's very little sex and a lot of impotence in my book, because it's non-fiction and -- I can't hear you, Martha interrupts, with her index fingers in her ears. You're wasting my time. I mean, I catnap now and then, but I think while I nap, so it's not a waste of time. All I'm trying to say --Robyn turns to the audience, as Martha crashes face-first onto the cold stage floor -- is that we're all human. Well, almost all of us. And humans have insecurities. So let's admit it and be secure about the fact that we're insecure. Because people who pretend to be totally secure aren't worthy of our time and attention. I mean, look at this cookbook cover! 
   It took me years to write my book because that's how long it took to work through my vulnerabilities to a point wherein I could write about them in a way that works for you, dear reader - with authenticity and no shame (or shame but no whining). 
   While it's mostly a funny and ultimately uplifting story, it's sad too. I reveal a lot of hurts and intimacies--things I'd never before shared with anyone.
  But this post isn't intended to be an in-your-face sales pitch. I'm writing this to say that insecurities are part of being human. And the two words that have kept me going as a writer are what I'll say to you. All that it takes to publish a book, or to accomplish any project you set out to accomplish, in spite of your insecurities, is this: KEEP GOING.
  That's all. Thank you for stopping by, dear sillies. Robyn walks over Martha as she exits the studio and shouts at stagehand Macaulay Culkin to sweep up the trash on the studio floor.

Benjamin Franklin Returns: IWSG

Hi, Friends. It's time to unleash our writerly insecurities and support each other's craft. Our good friend, Alex J. Cavanaugh, launched this group years ago and it's still going strong.


My head is swirling with lots going on, including a soon-to-be-released novel, so I'm cheating with this post. I'm bringing back my most popular IWSG post of all time. He's legendary. He's inspiring. He historical, so historical that he's 225 years old. Ladies and Gentlemen, let's warmly welcome Mr. Benjamin Franklin!

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 Ben Franklin strolls on stage, decaying and fraught with cobwebs, yet extremely polite.

 

Robyn is too anxious to talk. Trembling, she takes a large stride towards him but then slips and falls on her butt at Ben’s feet. Oh *bleep*! God, I mean *bleep!* I’m so sorry. Ben chivalrously helps Robyn stand up. A red-faced Robyn extends a hand to offer a formal greeting. Ben instead confers a fist-bump and Robyn reciprocates. They then bump hips playfully and plop down into their respective La-Z-boy recliners.

Ben: Not to worry, a slip of the foot you may soon recover, but a slip of the tongue you may never get over.

Robyn:  Um, yes, well my tongue slips too, but only on very rare occasion. *Bleep!* Oh sorry, I think I’m just nervous. I mean, you’re Ben Franklin, philosopher, author, inventor, American diplomat and all-around hero who’s been dead for 225 years.

Ben: My dear, fear not death for the sooner we die, the longer we shall be immortal.

Robyn: Good point.  On behalf of all Americans, Ben, I wish you a happy Independence Day. We have so much to thank you for. I don't know where to start.

Ben: No need for platitudes. Where liberty dwells, there is my country.

Robyn: I see. Well this is my Insecure Writer’s Group Post for July, so I'd like to ask for advice for all of us writers who struggle with insecurities.

Ben: Certainly.

If you would not be forgotten
As soon as you are dead and rotten,
Either write things worth reading,
Or do things worth the writing.

Robyn leans in closer to Ben's face, appearing to listen intently. Instead, she is lost in a heated sexual fantasy involving Ben, a feather-dip pen, and no electricity --with not a thought to the fact that Franklin died 225 years earlier.  

Ben continues, with clarity but no logical string of thoughts:

Any fool can criticize, condemn and complain and most fools do.

Beware of the young doctor and the old barber. 

Interrupting (she likes young doctors), Robyn says: Thank you so much, Mr. Franklin. I hope to see you again, frequently and often. She flings her hair back, stands up, gives him a wink and nuzzles Ben's arm as she escorts him off the stage and towards a nearby Motel 6. 

 

Ben Franklin continues:

By my rambling digressions, I perceive myself to be growing old.

He’s a fool who cannot conceal his wisdom..

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Dear blog friends, whether or not you celebrate Independence Day, may you appreciate our countless freedoms – including and especially our limitless opportunities to express ourselves through writing.

Keep writing things worth reading and doing things worth writing.

YAY FOR MARRIAGE EQUALITY! WOOHOO!

Happy July 4^th!

Thank you, Ben Franklin ~ 1706-1790. May you continue to rest in peace.

The italicized quotes above were found at www.quotationspage.com, jpetrie.mywebluga.edu, and www.goodreads.com/author/quotes.