New Direction

So, it has recently been brought to my attention that this blog (that began as a witty and somewhat amusing critique on social behavior) has turned into a maudlin WHINE about my bullshit.

So, to that end, I have been thinking about this blog and how to get back to the original idea of lighthearted teasing on prevailing trends that I don't get.

And basically all I have come up with is that I cannot write an entire blog about window cling-on family figures.

Seriously- what is the deal with that?

I GET that the second a girl gets engaged, the most gratifying moment actually occurs when said girl gets to change her relationship status on Facebook from 'single' to 'engaged'. Furthermore, once said girl becomes a mom, gratification from proving life superiority becomes obsolete only because the 'fact' that the cuteness of her kid is so life changing, she cannot begin to think of shedding light on any other part of her life and said kid takes full control. And beyond that, I suppose I get that you might be so in love with your family and subsequent procreations that you feel the need to emblazon your vehicle with a cling-on of their likeness(es) so that all that pass you on the freeway may know about your fertile marriage...

I guess...

But actually not. Putting a white, acrylic post-it (basically) of your family on your rear window is not akin to putting a Brinks sign in your front flowerbed; you don't do it to deter the legions of intentional automobile accident makers. You do it to make sure anyone that sees your Dodge Caravan knows that you don't drive a shitty mom-mobile for no reason; you drive it because you've cranked out a few rugrats.

So basically, the back window of a vehicle is the new Facebook relationship status. Bravo. You are keeping up with the Kardashians.

End blog.

So, because that rant seems limitedly gratifying, I have abstained from making an entry because of shallow material.

But still, the criticism of my new, sappy behavior with this blog remains.

So, I have been mulling it over. And this is what I have decided.

I am going to write a book.

(pause for reaction)

I don't know if the Good Lord is smiling on me or what, but I constantly find myself confronted with moments that I swear no one would ever believe. In fact, I post a great deal of these moments on Facebook and hear as much. So it got me thinking.

Mostly, it made me think about this blog and a great deal of the, "are you fucking serious!?" moments I have experienced that take far longer than a blog post to describe; so I thought about it, very much the way I  said before, and noticed that verbal storytelling is still worthwhile and the reaction is similar...so what's a girl to do?

Write a book.

Calm down, I am not going to do it all in one sitting, but I am going to start. Because, seriously, I don't make this shit up, and I have literally had a homeless man named Bryan storm into my office (in pink high heels) and demand I call him Kayla. And that is just one example. Don't begin to inquire about my most eventful train ride in Europe-- that's chapter three.

So, yes, I am going to write a book.

But you, my three faithful readers, I am going to give you the plan of how I am going to pen this work and how I am going to attempt to get it published.

If you didn't know, I went to graduate school. In fact, I did more than visit- I earned a master's. My graduate degree tells potential employers I am a journalist, and thus, and qualified to journalize on a regular basis. My master's program taught me a lot; in fact, it taught me that if I want to write a book, all I have to do is write a worthwhile manuscript and enter it into the Mayborn Conference manuscript competition.

And I intend to do so.

Which obviously begs the question: why the hell would anyone read a book by Lindsey Coyne?

Well, I don't exactly have that answer, but I have a reason why someone would read a book about a person with a regular life who constantly finds themselves bombarded by irregular situations.

Those reasons are named Tina Fey, Jenny Lawson and yes, Mary Karr.

It's called a memoir. And Tina Fey is an obvious draw because she is famous and Mary Karr is a draw because her account of her life is heartbreaking and harrowing and moving. And Jenny...well who of you knows who she is? I didn't know until I read her memoir.

Honestly, I've read half of Tina's book, a third of Mary's and almost all of Jenny's. And that might not have a relevant resonance with you, but to me it says this: horrifically beautiful is hard to swallow, hilarious but unreachable is more approachable and downright accurate to real life to plebeian readers changes a lot.

So for anyone lost: Mary Karr is poignant and devastating, Tina Fey is hysterical and lofty, and Jenny is...fucking real and approachable.

So, that is my aim. I am going to tell my story on the level Jenny felt when she wrote her memoir.

If you haven't read it-- and you should- it's scattered and deliberate, but more than worthy.

So that's my aim.

Not to write Jenny's memoir, but write my own. Every great, hilarious, tragic and questioning story in me is what I have to give and what I no longer feel compelled to hide. It is flowing from me and will equate to a manuscript for the competition. If it evolves beyond that, we'll see.

If not, I guess it's just you and I from here on out...