Thought-Drive

I've been deeply ill recently, which was an experience. It only happens once a year or so, long enough between bouts that it's always new again what that feels like. I always have the strangest thoughts duriing. Michael Jordan played an NBA Finals game feeling like this? Why don't heroes in comic books ever get the flu, this is much worse than being clipped by a bullet in the arm. Then, days later, my brain kicks back on. Ideas float behind my eyes, and I feel well enough to snatch at them, to even pay attention to them. Then I realize how sick I really was. All previous brain activity was focused keenly on how bad I felt right then, and comparing it to how bad I felt in the previous instant. But I still should've written. It would be easy for me to blame my sickness, but the truth is, I grew very afraid that this re-write project was a waste of time. I became fearful that I had spent all that time and effort just to create the exact same story. Without meaning to, t

I have written to the end of my outline. Which is an interesting phenomenon, depending on whether it happens at the end of a book, or in the middle. I am speaking of the latter case, of carefully following the bread crumbs of my story then stooping to pick up the next and finding the space vacant. I was somewhat busy this week and weekend, but I slated the time well in advance. I did everything except check the outline. When I got to it, it had one sentence, a short one, which was a stab that I took over two months ago about where I would probably be now. I wasn't wrong, but there also wasn't much to the sentence, just a flimsy and vague idea. I could've written, but there would've been no understanding of where I was writing to. So, I backed up, and am going back to work on the outline. On the plus side, the re-write continues to feel like a sounder idea. The story feels more full. I also didn't see my colleague to talk about how his dissertation is developing,