F is for...friends. Truly, I yam a cave-dwellin fool. Yet my peeps always forgive my social reticence. Go above and beyond for me, even when I've been MIA for a while. Like last week, when my laptop's operating system went the way of the samurai whilst I was visiting up nawth. While her hubs spent HOURS (of the wee kind) fixing it, my Lizard made cups of vanilla coffee appear and my troubles totally disappear. Dudes. We write in a vacuum. But friends totally change the bag out and let in some air while we do it. Thanks.
G is for...gauche. As in don't worry about being so. Went to my first conference last week, and I was an awkward, no-confidence-having schmoe. Didn't matter. Everyone I met was cool. (It's also for gauche,from the French for "left". Cuz I love me some left-handed-path shit. Sigh.)
H is for...hoi polloi. Sorta ties into the above. I know it's difficult to watch others succeed whilst you & me toil away, but don't fret about being one o the great unwashed for now. You'll rise when you're 'posed to. Meanwhile, wallow in your insignificance (or if you're from Georgia, waller). It's freedom and, hey, makes you appreciate those business-class seats once you score em.
I is for...THE IMAGO SEQUENCE. Laird Barron writes like a hellion, y'all. Stories might invade your sleep with nightmares, but you'll have already burrowed so deep into his mesmerizing prose that you won't mind. Much.
J is for...Jermajesty. I love me some Jackson Five, and I got nothing against Jermaine, but naming your kid Jermajesty? (Zoë is bad enough - can I tell you how many people rhyme it with Joe or tell me their dog is named Zoë? Legion.) Anyway. Titles matter, y'all, so choose yours deftly.
K is for...Knights of Cydonia. No explanation necessary. You're welcome.