When Katy at Fallible announced that she now had an agent to help guide her literary career, I was so very happy for her. I also started reading her agent’s blog. She gives great writing advice (like this), and she’s also hosting The Yo-Dawg-Show-Me-What-You-Got Double Decker CHALLENGE. There are two parts to the competition: submit the first line of a novel – a first line that will make her want to keep reading; second, after she chooses the winning first line, submit the first 300 words to go with the winning first line. If you’re a writer, the prize is something all unpublished writers pine after, so please click over and check out all the details. The deadline for the first phase is Saturday at midnight her time, so don’t wait.
Now, onto a totally different and completely unrelated topic: colonoscopies. Yes, I know, not what you expect from my blog. However, I read this funny and important column by Dave Barry about hist first colonoscopy – and why, after avoiding it for 10 years, he finally had it done.
OK. You turned 50. You know you’re supposed to get a colonoscopy. But you haven’t. Here are your reasons:
1. You’ve been busy.
2. You don’t have a history of cancer in your family.
3. You haven’t noticed any problems.
4. You don’t want a doctor to stick a tube 17,000 feet up your butt.
Let’s examine these reasons one at a time. No, wait, let’s not. Because you and I both know that the only real reason is No. 4. This is natural. The idea of having another human, even a medical human, becoming deeply involved in what is technically known as your ”behindular zone” gives you the creeping willies.
Now that I’ve shown you how humorous even this topic can be, click over and read the column. And, if you’re over fifty and have yet to be screened (yes, Dad, I mean you), make an appointment.
And, since it’s Good Friday, I leave you with this:
I read of Christ crucified,
the only begotten Son
sacrificed to flesh and time
and all our woe. He died
and rose, but who does not tremble
for His pain, His loneliness,
and the darkness of the sixth hour?
Unless we grieve like Mary
at His grave, giving Him up
as lost, no Easter morning comes.
~from The Way of Pain, by Wendell Berry