Since my initial outpouring of words on Friday I’ve not had a single one come since. Not a one. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut about it, but here I’ve gone and jinxed myself. Or maybe it’s just that my head is full of complete crap. (Ok, not worthless crap, just I-don’t-really-want-to-deal type crap, you know what I mean?) Among this mass of crap that seems to be floating around in my head; not the least of which involves what to do now that we may or may not have to change our living arrangements, unsolicited, yet well-meaning advice and yet more not-so-wonderful news, I’ve been thinking about le novel, as it’s referred to on my desktop folder.
I’ve been trying to force the thing into shape and I think that’s why I’ve dried up about it. My ability to visualize has been eclipsed by the desire to make the thing actually work – you know, the mechanics of the thing: what comes first and what works better as a flashback and how to get from point a to point b. So in my melancholy blank-page-staring state at some point yesterday I decided I might just scrap the thing until further notice. I really want to get something done so that I can work on the whole publishing thing, but forcing it isn’t going to make it happen – at least not this one since I’m coming at it backwards. At least it feels backwards at this point. Which means starting something new – or in Monty Python terms: now for something completely different! Of course I have no idea what that completely different thing might be, but there you are. I just have to stop forcing structure on something when it’s not ready for it.
Gee, there’s no fucking parallels there, are there? Cripes.
Right now, I want to be on my beach, sitting on the Name Tree and listening to the waves, the rain hissing into the water and the occasional Kingfisher until it gets almost too dark to see.
listening to: Holding On – Ferry Corsten
eating: eggs benny
word count: you’re looking at it
project of the day: trip planning
word of the day: threnody