Suspended animation
I made a plan for summer in mid spring; I guess that was my first mistake. The cover artist and I have settled on the line drawing, and color is being added. I'm told by the end of the week it should be about done. I'm pretty excited, however I am not in possession of the edited version of the inside of the book. All in all, in my abstract dreaming, I wanted all of this to be done before now, so the first book would be out in April, the second in May, so on and so forth. It was neat, in my mind, very orderly and squared. That should've been the first red flag that it wasn't going to work out how I planned. So, I'm not really sure where I am, exactly.
I'm in limbo at work, too. Spring semester has ended, and the summer session isn't quite here, yet. The first week's first day was a lot of sitting around looking at emails I'd already opened. I've revised up to the 4th book, turned back around and mad some decisions about some dangling choices in the 2nd. I didn't realize it had been so long since I wrote those stories. Everyone has a clam cell phone. I use a pay phone at least once as a narrative device. Updating it was a bit like spring cleaning. I found things I'd forgotten and other things I wanted to lock away again, forever. I also opened up an online learning path about SEO. Working at a learning institution, I figured I might as well try to learn some things that might help my career. I almost immediately fell asleep. Next I think I'll try web design.
On the second day, after breakfast, I investigated some moving boxes I never unpacked and found a writing pad given to me by a friend and a pack of those fancy pencils that don't have erasers. I went to work determined to work on my imaginings of the second book's cover, in hopes that being able to give the artist a visual of my thoughts would preempt a lot of the back and forth which can lead to confusion. For the morning hours I worked through a few different sketches and this was the best one:
Not the most representative, mind you, but the clearest image I was able to create, with the cleanest, least confused lines. I'm still not sure it says what I want it to say, but maybe it's a start. What became especially clear was that I definitely need help, in the way that things we already know are impressed on us again, in new and amazing ways.
The other day I spent some time with a writer friend, and he recounted his own breakthroughs. I've known him for over ten years, in that way that some people says "I've known him for over ten years," but they can't remember how long it's been exactly, and it's been so many years that the precise number isn't all that important. I feel like there's some lesson to be learned, about understanding the breadth of one's progress, but I don't quite know what it is, yet.
So, the plan moving forward is not to have a plan. I know what I want, but maybe I'll worry a little less about deadlines. The sun rises when it rises.
I'm in limbo at work, too. Spring semester has ended, and the summer session isn't quite here, yet. The first week's first day was a lot of sitting around looking at emails I'd already opened. I've revised up to the 4th book, turned back around and mad some decisions about some dangling choices in the 2nd. I didn't realize it had been so long since I wrote those stories. Everyone has a clam cell phone. I use a pay phone at least once as a narrative device. Updating it was a bit like spring cleaning. I found things I'd forgotten and other things I wanted to lock away again, forever. I also opened up an online learning path about SEO. Working at a learning institution, I figured I might as well try to learn some things that might help my career. I almost immediately fell asleep. Next I think I'll try web design.
On the second day, after breakfast, I investigated some moving boxes I never unpacked and found a writing pad given to me by a friend and a pack of those fancy pencils that don't have erasers. I went to work determined to work on my imaginings of the second book's cover, in hopes that being able to give the artist a visual of my thoughts would preempt a lot of the back and forth which can lead to confusion. For the morning hours I worked through a few different sketches and this was the best one:
Not the most representative, mind you, but the clearest image I was able to create, with the cleanest, least confused lines. I'm still not sure it says what I want it to say, but maybe it's a start. What became especially clear was that I definitely need help, in the way that things we already know are impressed on us again, in new and amazing ways.
The other day I spent some time with a writer friend, and he recounted his own breakthroughs. I've known him for over ten years, in that way that some people says "I've known him for over ten years," but they can't remember how long it's been exactly, and it's been so many years that the precise number isn't all that important. I feel like there's some lesson to be learned, about understanding the breadth of one's progress, but I don't quite know what it is, yet.
So, the plan moving forward is not to have a plan. I know what I want, but maybe I'll worry a little less about deadlines. The sun rises when it rises.
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