In which I explain my scarceness
March 7th, 2010
I haven’t been updating this much—neither because I’ve forgotten it nor for lack of things going on in life, but mostly because this year has turned into a year of mysteriously rapid personal growth for me. It’s lovely, because in many, many ways, I’ve been stuck in a rut of the soul (or the spirit or the spark or inner life or whatever you’d like to call it), one that lasted since my mid-twenties. After a few years of near-operatic crises, which has urged me firmly onto the grounds of adulthood, it seems to be the time to care for my inner life…plus, start to actually do a few things I have always talked about doing before I die. You know the stuff.
Anyway, most of what’s been going on, I assure you, would be boring as fuck for you to read about—kind of, as if, I started posting long narratives recounting the plot lines of my dreams.
Everyone knows that other people’s dreams are dull; unless *you* are IN them.
Anyway, as for writing stuff, I am floundering around in the dreaded 20k-in novel mess that everyone warns about…when you don’t plot the work beforehand. Which I didn’t.
I refused to, stubbornly—and also because frankly, the pleasure I derive from the actual writing process, which is often painful and absurd, is the discovery process. I learn what something is about as I go—I mean, I have a general sense of character and theme and stuff I want to include, but everything else is fluid.
So. It’s time to break out the index cards and decide where this is going and how I am going to get there.
I’m also pleased to report that, although I don’t seem to be on the website, I’ll be a panel conquering professional at Norwescon this year. I’m hosting the FFS again this year, so come see me in a ridiculous outfit doing geek stand-up, but will also be, throughout the weekend, talking about writing, publishing, and something called “The Blogger as Public Intellectual.”
It’ll be a fun way to try and convince myself I know what I am talking about before I pack off to two weeks of solitude and writing frenzy at Hedgebrook.
