I've done everything on my computer today but write. I have expertly arranged my bookmarks (er, favorites), bookmarked (favorited?) some sites for writing research, looked at other people's blogs, written this post, checked email, reviewed the week's PostSecrets in English and French, and thought nobly upon the enticing possibilities of all the research I'm going to do, all the topics that are just so fascinating to me, all the books that are brewing inside this brunette-covered brain. And their name is Legion. Oh, you betcha (anyone? Anyone? Palin?), there's synesthesia, wine in France and in NC, Taize and Seagrove and pottery, comics, the history of typography, everything that pops into my head is there in full-fledged hardback bound form, right down to the author photo, which doesn't exist but I know just which pose I want. There's just one small problem.
The writing.
Not my thing lately, it seems, despite my mapping out all the ideas in my world and their connections on butcher paper on the kitchen floor, despite my blocking out time to write, despite my (parents) paying good money to be here and devoting three years of my life to writing, and taching writing--for goodness' sake, if my students knew how long it'd been since I really put myself into a piece and got behind it instead of dashing something off for workshop and couching it in disclaimers about how rough it is, they'd stage a coup. Unless we had class outside, in which case they wouldn't notice or care.
Other non-writing things I have done: library book sale, cheap massage at the technical college, reading Othello, reading other stuff, several episodes of Project Runway, walking Wrightsville Beach Loop, considering a small party, a little cleaning here and there. Nothing I shouldn't have done, but geez, I have got to come up with a system that will make me do what I say I do.
Any ideas?
No comments:
Post a Comment