Writing will be interesting in the days to come

It’s Monday morning and I am sitting at a corporate desk trying hard to keep my eyes open. I am terribly tired and could use a personal day to recoup from a night of tossing, turning and coughing. My brain won’t shut off.

So let me talk about the writing. Yes, good safe topic to write about without too much weeping involved (I think). I’ve put my first draft of Indigo to rest. It’s not fully completed since I wasn’t sure how to end the story. I’m going to let it rest for 4 weeks before I make the first pass of rewrites. It took me 4.5 months to get to this point and there is a thorn in my brain about leaving it undone. A part of me wants to go in head first and start making revisions so I can start showing pages to my writing group. The other part of me is very nervous at the prospect of letting anyone see these first wonky pages. Yes, the pages feel awkward and not fully developed, like a baby deer trying to get its legs under her body. It’s all wobbly and shaky and a strong wind will topple it over. Ah can you see the confidence brimming…NOT. Confidence will come with more practice (I hope). Although, everything I’ve read about writer’s lives indicate the opposite.

Now that this piece is resting, I’m moving on to my next piece inspired by the documentary Collapse. I finally finished watching the movie yesterday. When I first put the movie on I was only able to get through the first 45 minutes. My head was going to pop off my shoulders. There was so much information to process and digest but it also gave me an inkling of a new idea. At first, I thought I would jam some of the ideas from Collapse into Indigo but I realized it would become another story if I tried to incorporate them. I’ve opted for a new novel instead. Yesterday, I was going to brainstorm and jot down ideas. What I actually did was putz around my room avoiding the blank page. I’m very good at bobbing and weaving away from the writing. I finished watching the movie and listening to Michael Ruppert speak and then I just didn’t have anything to write. I was inundated with so much data that my brain has been turning over pieces of information ever since. Tonight, I will go home after work and put down some ideas onto the page.

Which reminds me I also have to continue writing up some new poetry. I’m pulling together an application for a grant and I need to revise some pieces started at OAC and pull in some new material as well. It’s a March deadline so my goal is five new poems by this Friday. My stomach is churning, there is much to be done and I seem to be in a holding pattern. I don’t really know what I’m waiting for. It’s certainly NOT inspiration. I work, I write, I drink tea. That’s all I do these days but I get in this headspace of thinking I’m not getting enough done or that I’m waiting for something….what? I am looking out the window of this corporate office; it’s a dark, cloudy day and the rain has been coming down pretty steadily this morning.

It’s difficult to grieve when there is work to be done. Akilah Oliver, a writing mentor, recently passed away. She was an amazing poet and it came as a terrible shock. It has left me out of sorts, pressed down, walking around thin-skinned and barely present. Writing will be interesting in the days to come.
Peace~

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