Don’t you hate it when you get a great idea for a piece of writing and then it starts to slip away? Maybe it’s because I’m out of focus right now, but the book idea that I mentioned a couple of weeks ago now seems impossible. I’m wondering if I could even write a short piece. It’s just so complicated and I can’t seem to get a grip on it. It’s one of those projects that I have to be inspired to write because otherwise it will just suck. At least I think that’s right. In any case, I wrote a bit on it yesterday and I think what I wrote isn’t good enough. I’ve lost track of the magic.
The good news is that I feel good this morning, not so dark. I drank a lot of wine and actually cried a bit last night, which was a very good thing. I also read the new piece to Dale and Annette, also a very good thing. I think the sun is actually coming out, which also helps. I lost weight this week, which is some kind of freaking miracle. But I’ll take it. I’ll take the sunshine and the good feelings and maybe a poem or two. I want to write about DNA, my DNA, my poor, tired, used up genes. I have an idea for a poem, which may be a bad thing. Often, starting with an idea leads to an artificial poem. We will see what we see.
In other writing news—I finally started the story that I’ve had on the back burner for months now. First I got a scene idea, then a general idea of the storyline, then I got the first line, and yesterday I finally wrote it down. It’s only the beginning, a couple hundred words, but at least I’ve got something down on paper. Now I just hope I can muster up the gumption to keep working on it.
But isn’t it funny that in the midst of everything that’s going on, I wrote a new piece? Just like that. That’s the thing that I mentioned the other day, how I like to snatch time for writing, writing in the in-between moments. The first half of this piece I wrote Tuesday night in class while my students worked together in pairs. It just poured right out of me. I wish that all writing could be like that all the time, just pouring out in a long, twisty stream. Alas and alack.
I think I’m going to go to the grocery store. I hope I can make a deal with myself—to only eat bagels on the weekend. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
The only thing is, I don’t want to go anywhere or do anything. Hummmmmm.
~r.
