For those of you who were worried, I made it to Monday :)
Sunday blues, begone. Today is a new day. An exciting one.
One. I have always wanted to be picked for a jury. While it seems the rest of you will spew any excuse to resume your regular life, I am an odd bird, eager to be plucked by that discerning DA for a spot in the box. Last time I did this thing? I had just taken the New York Bar Exam. This fact elicited horror in the eyes of the lawyers; I knew way too much law to be on the case. Probably more than they did. (Don't worry, it has since escaped. Big time.)
Two. Being held captive in a room full of disgruntled New York strangers is a writer's dream. Talk about material.
Three. Being held captive in a room full of disgruntled New York strangers is this writer's dream. I am currently writing my second novel Ivy League Latte about a Yale Law student who finds herself pregnant before graduation. Anyway, my protagonist Clio is called for jury duty right before she gives birth and among those sober strangers fidgeting with newspapers and their BlackBerries, whom does she encounter? Her first love. So, what will I do while those around me fidget with their papers and their Berries? I will write that chapter! (And keep an eye out for the ex). Talk about multi-tasking.
And if I'm actually picked for a jury (unlikely, but a girl can dream), I won't be able to tell you about the case or the judge or the criminal, but I'm sure I will have plenty of other random things to report about the melancholy masses cooped up in a government building on a monotonous Monday morning.
Stay tuned.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Join the conversation. What do you think? Be honest. Be bold. Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me about that typo. Tell me I'm splendid. Or tell me I'm spoiled. But if you want your comment to be seen, keep it clean.