Wednesday, April 5, 2006
Cloudy and cool
Very tired. More chaos here on the home front. I’m sick of it. I want it to stop. I want peace and quiet. But we’re dealing with people who enjoy inflicting pain, so we have to hold firm.
Work was fine yesterday. A colleague of mine has an exciting opportunity in a field she really wants to enter – she’s off to West Virginia for the rest of this week to test it out. I can’t wait to hear all about it when she returns. I’m so thrilled for her!
More insistent characters are clamoring for attention, and I’m trying to get them sorted out. Can any of them inhabit the same books? That would help. Sort them out, stand them in line, see who fits in where.
I’d like to work on some short pieces in the upcoming months, as The Situation continues to put so much stress and despair in my life. I think – I hope – the short pieces will keep me writing (not writing only increases the stress and despair) and also give me the opportunity of finishing. The long pieces – which are really what I want to work on – need stretches of concentrated time and energy. Not only do I not have the time in this fight, but I have very little energy. Being able to focus for a few hundred words a day and then, in a shorter period of days, having an actual completed first draft will help me regain my momentum.
Right now, I’m fighting day to day. I can’t think in terms of length, in any area of my life. By adjusting the writing to fit that, I can still get writing done.
The Dog Blog is up today – my topic is writing to writers.
I worked out some plot sequencing yesterday and jotted notes down on my break in day work.
My tarot client was very nice – she’d never had her cards read before, but she is open and eager for active change, so it was a good reading.
The Lighthouse Stevensons is a delightful and fascinating book. However, I find that I need to read it in smaller bits, and then put it down and digest it. There’s ever so much information, densely and cleverly packed. I learned a lot about lighthouses when I wrote about the one out at Montauk a couple of years ago, and the information in the book fits interestingly in with the information I learned out there. So I read a chapter and then I think about it for a few hours, and then I read the next one.
In the meantime, I’m also reading a wonderful, wonderful book by Anna Quindlen called Imagining London, detailing how she fell in love with London via books, and then, in her forties, finally visited the actual city.
Now, I need to take a deep breath, start taping and putting down drop cloths, and begin the spackle work on the vestibule. The work won’t do itself, unfortunately. And I guess I’m just not interesting enough for fairies, pixies, elves and brownies to come in during the night and take care of it for me. Perhaps, because, in fairy tales, those who get the help sit there and are victims (the “moral” of a fairy tale being if you allow yourself to be a doormat, you’ll eventually be “rescued” by a prince – yet most of the princes in these tales, to me, just seem so self-righteous, boring, and filled with sensations of entitlement that I just want to throw up), you prove you’re “good” and someone will come and help you.
Come to think of it, breaking it down like that – I’d rather do it myself.