It must be Einstein's Theory of Relativity: I can spend 8 or 9 hours staring at a blank screen and it seems like an eternity, but 11 days can pass without me even realizing it. Spending Christmas in NYC with good friends did make for an extremely pleasant passage, though, so it was worth it.
From Queens to Gandhi to the Empire State Building, from John's pizza to Grand Central to Times Square to Grand Szechuan to Teany's to Chinatown, from the Chinatown Ice Cream Factory to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to the New Venus diner to Equus to Rockefeller Center to the Malibu Diner, and finally from Penn Station once again, NYC and our friends offered a perfect respite from our first Christmas without our mom. If there were moments of melancholy, given the circumstances, they were both fitting and necessary.
And now, on to the New Year...
12.31.2008
12.20.2008
I Think I'll Keep My Day... uh...Occupation
A friend of mine writes an exceptional recipe blog that makes meal prep sound almost fun and worthwhile. I personally despise cooking, though I am the chief planner & executioner of this chore in my house (with lots of sous chef assistance from my husband and some salad prep by sis).
Perhaps the bread I recently tried to make sensed my ambivalence. As it oozed across the floured pan like a horror-film escapee, I made an executive decision to toss it out, because though I followed the recipe and even set the bowl on the stove -- ostensibly the warmest place in the house -- for 18 hours, I think the house is too cold to get the dough to set up.
I suppose I could turn up the heat from 67 to 70 degrees... but I don't really need a $350 loaf of bread, which is what would happen from the increase in our utility bill.
Guess I'll try making this again in the summer.
In other news, the writing is going well. Not counting pages these days, but conceptual progress. Harder to quantify but probably more important.
Perhaps the bread I recently tried to make sensed my ambivalence. As it oozed across the floured pan like a horror-film escapee, I made an executive decision to toss it out, because though I followed the recipe and even set the bowl on the stove -- ostensibly the warmest place in the house -- for 18 hours, I think the house is too cold to get the dough to set up.
I suppose I could turn up the heat from 67 to 70 degrees... but I don't really need a $350 loaf of bread, which is what would happen from the increase in our utility bill.
Guess I'll try making this again in the summer.
In other news, the writing is going well. Not counting pages these days, but conceptual progress. Harder to quantify but probably more important.
12.16.2008
12.11.2008
Careering From Career to Career
Suddenly everywhere I go, the question du jour seems to be, "What do you do?"
Not an unreasonable query, but I'm finding it difficult to answer without a lengthy explanation. Can I say I'm a writer if I haven't been paid for my fiction (even if I have been a paid for writing for other people in various past jobs)? I'm a little uncomfortable with that. I am a writer, and I do write, but in the U.S., when we say "do" we mean "get paid for right now".
Sometimes I say I'm retired. However, at my age, that answer garners disbelief and a dogged repetition of the question.
I'm thinking of saying I'm a professional alcoholic. Don't want to offend anyone, though.
I've considered saying I'm a telecommuting fluffer, since my husband recently told me what that means. However, not everyone may get the joke, and I don't want to give the wrong impression. (Ummm, come to think of it, I may have already given the wrong impression... I swear, I'm only kidding!)
I've also considered saying "I'm a stay-at-home". People will no doubt supply the "mom" that usually completes the phrase, and that's a bit of a fib too. I'm mother only to my animals, and not always a great mom to them.
Maybe I'll just say I'm on a Gibson Writing Fellowship. Those that know my hubby will get it. Those that don't may be suitably impressed.
Not an unreasonable query, but I'm finding it difficult to answer without a lengthy explanation. Can I say I'm a writer if I haven't been paid for my fiction (even if I have been a paid for writing for other people in various past jobs)? I'm a little uncomfortable with that. I am a writer, and I do write, but in the U.S., when we say "do" we mean "get paid for right now".
Sometimes I say I'm retired. However, at my age, that answer garners disbelief and a dogged repetition of the question.
I'm thinking of saying I'm a professional alcoholic. Don't want to offend anyone, though.
I've considered saying I'm a telecommuting fluffer, since my husband recently told me what that means. However, not everyone may get the joke, and I don't want to give the wrong impression. (Ummm, come to think of it, I may have already given the wrong impression... I swear, I'm only kidding!)
I've also considered saying "I'm a stay-at-home". People will no doubt supply the "mom" that usually completes the phrase, and that's a bit of a fib too. I'm mother only to my animals, and not always a great mom to them.
Maybe I'll just say I'm on a Gibson Writing Fellowship. Those that know my hubby will get it. Those that don't may be suitably impressed.
12.10.2008
The Lure of Spider Solitaire
If the first book was written in between taking phone calls and making copies, the second one seems to owe a debt to Spider Solitaire.
Play two hands, write a sentence. Play a couple more, write a word. Play a couple more...
You get the picture.
I didn't know you could make a career out of playing computer card games at home -- oh, wait, that's not the career I was going for.
And yet, I've managed to break through the block this week. I can't say it's going fast, but at least it's going.
Play two hands, write a sentence. Play a couple more, write a word. Play a couple more...
You get the picture.
I didn't know you could make a career out of playing computer card games at home -- oh, wait, that's not the career I was going for.
And yet, I've managed to break through the block this week. I can't say it's going fast, but at least it's going.
12.07.2008
Weekly Wrap-up
If I were my boss, I would probably write me up this week for failing to perform up to my abilities. I've been distractable, unpunctual, and largely unproductive.
What I did get done: typed, edited, printed and mailed a 50-page biography of a family member for a Christmas present per request. This did not require much of a re-write, per se; mostly it involved checking the grammar & spelling and reorganizing a few thoughts for a more linear presentation.
Two pages of The Pirate's Bride. That may not seem like much, but considering how stuck I was feeling last Monday, it feels great to me.
The opening scene (two pages) for the screenplay of The Long Black Veil. We had a different opening altogether when we first wrote this way back when, so I finally updated it to reflect the book's opening. It's been awhile since I worked on a screenplay, so this was both interesting and kind of productive.
One page of the newest screenplay, tentatively titled The Season of the Witch. I had a vision for how I wanted this to go, but frankly, I don't think I captured it yet. Still, it's a start.
Other stuff: played lots of spider solitaire, spent time with my husband and sister, put up plastic on several windows to cut the drafts down a bit in my old house, came up with several Christmas present ideas, provided support to my dad (whose wife is extremely ill), took care of a sick kitty, cooked a bunch of meals, did a lot of laundry, and let the guys in to fix the elliptical.
What I didn't do that I said I would do: send out query letters to agents. For whatever inexplicable reason, I just don't think it's the right time yet. William, Jeannine and I will look over the query letter again before the year is out and make sure it's saying all it needs to say. I am going to bow to my instincts and wait a little longer.
Okay... time to round 'em up and head 'em out. I guess I'll just give myself a warning for now that I better show a little more initiative in the week to come...
What I did get done: typed, edited, printed and mailed a 50-page biography of a family member for a Christmas present per request. This did not require much of a re-write, per se; mostly it involved checking the grammar & spelling and reorganizing a few thoughts for a more linear presentation.
Two pages of The Pirate's Bride. That may not seem like much, but considering how stuck I was feeling last Monday, it feels great to me.
The opening scene (two pages) for the screenplay of The Long Black Veil. We had a different opening altogether when we first wrote this way back when, so I finally updated it to reflect the book's opening. It's been awhile since I worked on a screenplay, so this was both interesting and kind of productive.
One page of the newest screenplay, tentatively titled The Season of the Witch. I had a vision for how I wanted this to go, but frankly, I don't think I captured it yet. Still, it's a start.
Other stuff: played lots of spider solitaire, spent time with my husband and sister, put up plastic on several windows to cut the drafts down a bit in my old house, came up with several Christmas present ideas, provided support to my dad (whose wife is extremely ill), took care of a sick kitty, cooked a bunch of meals, did a lot of laundry, and let the guys in to fix the elliptical.
What I didn't do that I said I would do: send out query letters to agents. For whatever inexplicable reason, I just don't think it's the right time yet. William, Jeannine and I will look over the query letter again before the year is out and make sure it's saying all it needs to say. I am going to bow to my instincts and wait a little longer.
Okay... time to round 'em up and head 'em out. I guess I'll just give myself a warning for now that I better show a little more initiative in the week to come...
12.02.2008
Old Wounds
Maybe this is why I write: because when you create the world, you can control what happens in it. Like everybody else, I am endlessly discovering all the things over which I have no control. I couldn't save my mother -- not that in the end she wanted to be saved, but still, I really tried. And I still can't change the past.
I can't escape it, either. I volunteered to do a good thing for someone with whom I don't have a close relationship, but who is dear to someone dear to me. In doing so, I was presented with a perspective on an event that happened almost 20 years ago -- and yet it still has the power to piss me off, and not just for me, but for my mother and sister, too. Doesn't this stuff ever go away?
Maybe that's why I still think F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby has the best ending I've ever read:
"Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year recedes befores us. It eludes us then, but that is no matter -- tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther, and one fine morning...
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."
I can't escape it, either. I volunteered to do a good thing for someone with whom I don't have a close relationship, but who is dear to someone dear to me. In doing so, I was presented with a perspective on an event that happened almost 20 years ago -- and yet it still has the power to piss me off, and not just for me, but for my mother and sister, too. Doesn't this stuff ever go away?
Maybe that's why I still think F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby has the best ending I've ever read:
"Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year recedes befores us. It eludes us then, but that is no matter -- tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther, and one fine morning...
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."
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