My Vocabulary

Riffraff: Everyone who either isn't a writer or who doesn't aspire to be one. Mind you, there are some beautiful riffraff in the world. They live purposeful lives, they operate the machinery of society, they enrich our national experience. But, you know, like, who cares?

The Great Unwashed: Aspiring writers who don't have agents.

Mexican Jumping Beans: Aspiring writers who have agents but not publishers.

Perimeter Defense Readers (PDRs): The assistants, interns, and other riffraff who decide whether the agent or editor should review your submission. They fall into two categories: Whore PDRs, who send you a form rejection, and Angel PDRs, who champion your manuscript.

Muckity-Mucks: Anyone at a publishing house with the authority and inclination to reject your work. There's nary a cootie-free one in the bunch.

Nakeditity: What you experience when you show your raw manuscript to strangers. Either that, or Radar O'Reilly without a shirt. Take your pick.

Bird Flu: The reason it's really quite pointless to read any further.

A Fart in a Vacuum: As in "Busier than." Agents are always claiming this, but we can't help noticing they eat, sleep, and otherwise squander their time on nonwriting projects. Give an agent an inch and she'll watch Gilligan's Island reruns all day long.

Yellow Snow: What most self-published novels are worth.

Atoms: As in "Reduced to constituent." To go away. To do the big bye-bye. To become what Ann Coulter would become if a meteorite of sufficient size landed on her head.

Human Bean: What I thought I was in third grade. It wasn't my fault. I swear. I can't help it if Kentuckians mispronounce "being."

Jelly Beans: My track coach popped one of these into my mouth whenever I won a race. He later died of an excruciating degenerative disease. At least I hope he did.

Hussy: Sex Scenes at Starbucks.

Wannabe 101: A rose by any other name.

Wet My Pants in Glory: As in "Go off to a quiet place to." What I do whenever anyone on the island of Manhattan, anyone at all, googles me.

Gilligan's Island Reruns: Somebody's got to be watching these things, and if not literary agents, who???

Squee: Don't say it. Just don't. Not around me. Not unless I have my hands over my ears and I'm yelling at the top of my lungs.

Stooopid: Really, really stupid.

Mushrooms: As in "Dumber than." Combine this term with the one above and yup, that's right, Republicans. You knew I had to get them on the list somehow.

Cooties: They're real, people. Protect yourselves. And don't listen to the naysayers; look what happened to Santa Claus.

Blogtopia: Some people think they're going to Heaven when they croak. What they don't know is, we're already there. I love my blogging buddies.