I know what you’re thinking. “What, no 50 Shades recap? THIS IS HORSESHIT!” and then you probably threw your coffee in someone’s face. You need to get your anger issues in check, yo.
No, there is no recap today, because I am meeting with my mentee, or manatee, in any case, the pre-published writer I mentor.
I’m pretty sure when people think, “responsible career mentor,” they think something like…
- Locked her in my basement and refused to let her out until she wrote five hundred words.
- Threatened to hit her with a lead pipe if she didn’t meet her weekly goal.
- Told her that I would break into her house while she was sleeping, climb astride her sleeping body, lean over her face and slowly apply lipstick in ever widening circles to my own mouth while staring at a point somewhere just above her head.
- E has a desk in my office. When she started to slack off on her goals, I started piling shit on her desk. Just random stuff, like crafting supplies and papier mache projects I was working on.
- Threatened to run her over with a car.
- Remember the thing with the lipstick? That, but instead of lipstick, I was going to look her in the eye and slowly draw a razor blade over the surface of my own eyeball.
- “You were going to beat me with a broom if I didn’t get my goals done.”
- “The second offense, if I still didn’t get my goals done after beating me with the broom, you were going to take out my knees with a lead pipe.”
- “And if for some reason, with broken knees, I still did not get my goals made, you would run me over with a car. Best mentor ever.”
It sounds like you are dedicated to mentoring your mentee. You know, my favorite author once said that writing is like opening a vein. As bright and sunny as that analogy may seem, I would suspect that mentoring someone to write would be just as sunny, at least you are yourself with E.
” Here is a sampling of things I have done to my poor mentee, who I will call E:
Locked her in my basement and refused to let her out until she wrote five hundred words.
Threatened to hit her with a lead pipe if she didn’t meet her weekly goal.
Told her that I would break into her house while she was sleeping, climb astride her sleeping body, lean over her face and slowly apply lipstick in ever widening circles to my own mouth while staring at a point somewhere just above her head.
E has a desk in my office. When she started to slack off on her goals, I started piling shit on her desk. Just random stuff, like crafting supplies and papier mache projects I was working on.
Threatened to run her over with a car.
Remember the thing with the lipstick? That, but instead of lipstick, I was going to look her in the eye and slowly draw a razor blade over the surface of my own eyeball.”
Sure sounds like a 50 Shades recap to me….