Do tell: since when did Sriracha become a popular flavor?
In my school days, Sriracha was an uncommon currency. You could only get it from Asian grocers or from one of the many Indonesian students. We had it for dorm room ramen (which was against the rules at our college, I kid you not), chicken tenders, and Hungry Howie’s pizza. It felt like we’d shared a best-kept, lesser-known secret. Hipsters didn’t exist back then, so don’t even start.
Now? Far from the oblique status it once enjoyed, Sriracha is everywhere. In your chips. Your ranch dressings. Your OREOs.
Pictured: Not hipster Tabasco.
But rather than decry the outing of a great, mid-2000s flavor secret, I think it’s cause for celebration. Every decade brings new flavors to the forefront, and I’m excited for what’s next:
I have only one “good story.” This is it. Save for embellishments, it’s 110% true.
I’d always heard that you couldn’t see your audience from the stage. But I could hear them, their raucous roars once compelling me there now dying down as Slim Goodbody welcomed me to the platform.
Yes, that Slim Goodbody.
“So, what can you do?” he asked.
I froze. That was not why I was up there.
Not only was I unprepared, I was incapable of doing what he was asking. Big difference. Public speaking is something you can actually do off the cuff, prepared or no. But if you physically cannot dunk a basketball, then there’s no way you’re walking off that stage with your dignity. Incapable.
I was prepared to kiss my dignity goodbye. To a dude wearing a this:
I needed a miracle. What I got was magic:
In the last round of thrashing the wheat and chaff of résumés, we talked about three things to lop off for maximum hiring potential.
Made those edits yet? Good.
“This job seeker described his work experiences with emoji!” — Résumé Vivisector Mark VII™ by Hammermill
But wait, there’s more! Here’s where to keep on chopping:
Besides this one, every other money-saving article is bunk.
Chances are, you’re not broke because you don’t brown-bag your lunch every day or “not get an eight-dollar latte” every morning. Nor are you left wondering “where did all the money go?” simply because you pay for cable, had overdraft fees, or didn’t use ceiling fans instead of AC. Saving small change won’t change bigger realities of financial peril (or minor inconvenience).
“Look at all the money I saved this week just by cutting out my trips to Chipotle!”
The real money-saving secrets are hard, face-smacking truths that no one is going to bother telling you. Until now:
Ah, now here’s where Writing All Wrong might save you a few days in the unemployment line. Or, if you’re an entitled millennial, it’ll spare you a few days of not having the keys to your dad’s Lexus until you find a job. (Just kidding – he’ll talk to someone at his work and have you hired directly into management).
If you’re not fortunate enough to “know a guy or gal” — then you’ll need a sharp résumé to ticket your way into a job interview.
“Great candidate!” — Lord Shredd, The Résumé Annihilator™
But instead of getting that interview ticket punched, it’s your face that will be punched if your résumé contains the following:
I might be the most anti-millennial millennial out there, but I’ll admit: I don’t mind a good #hashtag every now and then.
They’re great for laughs, trends, retweets, social change (lol), and all sorts of pulses on the effluent of social media.
Jesus wept (and it’s all your fault). #sad #lostsheep #sorrow
But there’s one hashtag that needs to die. And fast. You probably use it, and if you do, it makes Jesus cry:
Ah, at long last, where we get back to the earthen, dirt-hugged roots of the writing craft.
Copyright Joseph Samuel Priestley & The Harrogate Archaeological Society – Original Image
“Your writing is grinding the gears of my imagination when they are mine alone to turn.”
Speaking of dirt, there’s plenty of it to find in the fiction writing world, but none more so than this common gaffe, this novice tell, the one thing that many writers need to stop doing to make their fiction better: