Writing Friends

When I was a child I’d sometimes have a tiff with a schoolmate and run home to tell my mother that so and so was “picking on me” or “talking about me” It never failed that my mother would say, “If he’s talking about you, then he really likes you.”

Well, Maurice Broaddus must love me. He’s been talking about me.

I can’t really get angry about the things he said, because, well, they’re mostly true. We do hate each other’s writing styles. We also bounce ideas off each other. Like his failed attempt to run for HWA president. He only decided against it when I reminded him he wasn’t actually an Active member.

For those who don’t know, Maurice and I have been friends for quite a while. Maurice is a really smart guy. I know because he keeps telling me. He’s a scientist and writes about things like “Ontological Blackness” and “The Philosophy of his Underpants”. Maurice is also a minister—ordained by God. Which means he doesn’t need to be ordained by man or the church—who needs that pesky, piece of paper.

We go back and forth with each other this way all the time. This is good I think because it keeps us both on our toes and makes for a great friendly rival. I don’t think he was joking when he said he measures his success by “top Chesya moments.” He has a lot of catching up to do.

Need I even say who coined the term “Literary Diva” first? Oh, and did I tell you that he said I better not make this blog pink…so naturally I had no choice.

And, for the record, I haven’t completely gotten over the being only “Chesya” thing. I could be like the supernatural Zane. Chesya—there can be only one.

But check him out—you’re bound to learn something—I always do.