tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5704943052235281766.post4152379983051756361..comments2024-03-28T10:41:26.999-06:00Comments on Blood-Red Pencil: Bleed For MeDanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14471919576687777886noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5704943052235281766.post-54571974738949618382008-09-25T19:18:00.000-06:002008-09-25T19:18:00.000-06:00Very apt. And I'm also LOL at Holly's story.Very apt. And I'm also LOL at Holly's story.Elle Carter Nealhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02266309723919011181noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5704943052235281766.post-89784350790884473102008-09-25T17:15:00.000-06:002008-09-25T17:15:00.000-06:00Cute post. Thank goodness it's fiction. If edits r...Cute post. Thank goodness it's fiction. If edits really caused bleeding, there wouldn't be many editors -- or writers asking for edits.Helen Gingerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09794759602654727110noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5704943052235281766.post-6394466202803928042008-09-25T17:09:00.000-06:002008-09-25T17:09:00.000-06:00Great story Susie. It is fiction - right?Great story Susie. It is fiction - right?Charlotte Phillipshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09336641340221491792noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5704943052235281766.post-59129188859070023882008-09-25T16:37:00.000-06:002008-09-25T16:37:00.000-06:00What a hoot. Glad I wasn't that editor.What a hoot. Glad I wasn't that editor.Maryannwriteshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09479027709233807149noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5704943052235281766.post-11038370445096679012008-09-25T11:25:00.000-06:002008-09-25T11:25:00.000-06:00Reminds me of when I first met hubbo and visited h...Reminds me of when I first met hubbo and visited his stained glass studio. I was walking by a work bench that had a quatrefoil point sticking out and sliced the back of my hand as I walked by. I bled like a stuck pig! Red everywhere. His response was, "it's a glass cut, it'll heal fast." Huh? That was almost the end of that relationship. Decades and many glass cuts later, I've learned he was right. Glass cuts are sharp and painless. Use that bit of trivia in a story!<BR/><BR/>Dani<BR/>http://blogbooktours.blogspot.comDanihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14471919576687777886noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5704943052235281766.post-52232312310941346652008-09-25T09:43:00.000-06:002008-09-25T09:43:00.000-06:00And I thought I had a dark side!Great post today, ...And I thought I had a dark side!<BR/>Great post today, Susie,<BR/><BR/>Morgan Mandel<BR/>www.morganmandel.com<BR/>http://morganmandel.blogspot.comMorgan Mandelhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10118929301591850918noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5704943052235281766.post-14884325314698666012008-09-25T09:35:00.000-06:002008-09-25T09:35:00.000-06:00Very good. Reminds me of a little scene I wrote ba...Very good. Reminds me of a little scene I wrote back in 2005, waiting for the annual torment that is NaNoWriMo:<BR/><BR/>They say "write what you know." But who the heck wants to read about a happily married tech writer with two kids? Ah. "Embellish," you say? There's a thought.<BR/><BR/><I>Tina sighed as she waded through stacks of paper covered in blood. Red ink, of course - but to Tina it was the blood of her hard-birthed manual, the love child of Engineering, painstakingly researched and written, now cut to shreds by Marketing. As Tina reached into the drawer, rummaging for a bottle of white out, her fingers found the Exacto knife. She smiled in satisfaction. Nice and rusty and dull.</I><BR/><BR/>Naah. Definitely needs a sprinkling of space aliens and a dash of ninjas. And more caffeine!<BR/><BR/><I>Tina sat, glassy-eyed, in front of her monitor, waiting for the chime that would signal arrival of the 'ratings' from a horde of equally glassy-eyed reviewers. She bit the ragged edge of a hopelessly frayed nail, thankful that she hadn't invested in a pricy French manicure. Fingernails on a keyboard were only slightly less irritating than fingernails on a chalkboard, anyway. Tina dreamed of the trashy-but-entertaining fiction she could be writing, as opposed to the dry-but-equally-fictional technical documents she'd be editing to the truthful nuggets at their core in the wee hours of the morning. Ding! The first of the reviews announced its presence in her inbox.<BR/><BR/>Tina tested the blade with her index finger. A ragged cut, only a few epithelial layers deep, appeared. She was able to squeeze a drop of blood from it, but barely enough to fall, splat!, on the page. Next, she stood in front of the heating vent and did jumping jacks. Once she'd worked up a good sweat, Tina leaned over her tattered draft - now covered in red ink, toner smears, and a pathetically anemic drop of real blood - and dripped. Just then, her boss walked by and noticed her office door was ajar. No look of horror, no raised eyebrow at the sight of a wild-eyed, sweat-soaked technical writer wringing blood from her own finger - she noticed the rusty Exacto knife in Tina's hand and said, with a small smile of self-satisfaction, 'Good! I see you're going to cut it as I suggested a week ago!'</I>Holly Jahangirihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08034708581256314628noreply@blogger.com