Writing & Reading
Jun. 27th, 2023 08:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mallorys_cameraWhat a day.
Cavalcade of thunder. Vertical dendrites of lightning.
Storm after storm after storm.
All day long.
More of the same predicted for this afternoon but not for this morning, so shortly I will toddle out and exercise my aimless, indolent body. And check in on my garden. The straw I put down is holding the weeds at bay (mostly), so gardening is no longer a daily chore. Unless I want it to be.
###
I spent yesterday toiling faithfully away at Remunerative Projects because I expected the electricity to go out at any minute, and I didn’t want to get too far behind on deadlines.
(It didn’t, though. The electricity, I mean. Go out.)
After six hours of that, I decided: Enuff!
And then did something quite unusual for me—started scribbling fiction in the late afternoon. And continued scribbling fiction well into the night.
Did another 1,000 words.
It is rare indeed that the momentum of any given fiction project can hurtle me through the deep, deep torpor that seems to descend upon me every day at precisely 4 pm.
###
I was cackling away while I scribbled!
I’m finding my current protagonist Dax extremely amusing.
The editor part of my brain (which I can never turn off) tells me: Dax is inconsistent! Most of the time, they’re anti-intellectual! But then they use all these big words and fancy metaphors! And why would they be familiar with Lorca?
Also, you should restrict your use of run-on sentences with weird metaphors and bizarre verbal juxtapositions to once every two paragraphs!
To which the writer part of my brain shrieks, First draft! First draft! First draft!
###
Anyway, Work as Progressed here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1JFt_HDaThoI2_jU2VcEcygyvcX7-PkS3qp9HfTxnIFc/edit
###
In News of the Social:
TaxBwana Linda finally texted me back. I have been trying to set up a lunch date with TaxBwana Linda all summer long to no avail. Dates wouldn’t line up.
And you gotta know, it’s a very big deal for me to reach out socially to someone ‘cause on some deep level—the level that mediates all social connections—I’m absolutely convinced that no one in their right mind would ever want to hang out with someone like me-e-e-eeee.
Like what real human grownup hangs out with anyone when they’re my age, right?
Grownups don’t hang out.
They socialize.
It’s all very structured and civilized.
###
So!
I had texted TaxBwana Linda last week, suggesting lunch.
And she had not texted back.
Ho—kay! I thought. My quest for True Friendship in the Quaint & Scenic Hudson Valley hits another dead end.
But then yesterday, I got this text: Sorry for getting back to you so late. I would very much enjoy getting together. I think we have a lot in common. I am, however, right now, not in a good “head space.” Lots of reasons, part wrist, part family stuff. Will reach out when I am feeling social again….
TOTALLY understand… I texted back. Blah, blah, blah. Do reach out when you're feeling more social, even if it's a long, long time from this moment.
To which she responded: Fingers crossed it won’t be a “long, long time from this moment.” I would very much like to crawl out of this hole my dark little Dostoevskian brain has dug … sooner, as opposed to later.
To which I responded, Oh, do you channel Dostoevski in moods like this? I do Tess of the d'Urbervilles. Specifically that last scene when she wanders mad, hopeless, & pathetic into Stonehenge…
And now we’re texting about Great Books.
###
Two morally instructive conclusions suggest themselves from this exchange!
(1) One should never automatically conclude that one is the cause of anybody else’s behavior
(2) I like people who read a lot.
Cavalcade of thunder. Vertical dendrites of lightning.
Storm after storm after storm.
All day long.
More of the same predicted for this afternoon but not for this morning, so shortly I will toddle out and exercise my aimless, indolent body. And check in on my garden. The straw I put down is holding the weeds at bay (mostly), so gardening is no longer a daily chore. Unless I want it to be.
###
I spent yesterday toiling faithfully away at Remunerative Projects because I expected the electricity to go out at any minute, and I didn’t want to get too far behind on deadlines.
(It didn’t, though. The electricity, I mean. Go out.)
After six hours of that, I decided: Enuff!
And then did something quite unusual for me—started scribbling fiction in the late afternoon. And continued scribbling fiction well into the night.
Did another 1,000 words.
It is rare indeed that the momentum of any given fiction project can hurtle me through the deep, deep torpor that seems to descend upon me every day at precisely 4 pm.
###
I was cackling away while I scribbled!
I’m finding my current protagonist Dax extremely amusing.
The editor part of my brain (which I can never turn off) tells me: Dax is inconsistent! Most of the time, they’re anti-intellectual! But then they use all these big words and fancy metaphors! And why would they be familiar with Lorca?
Also, you should restrict your use of run-on sentences with weird metaphors and bizarre verbal juxtapositions to once every two paragraphs!
To which the writer part of my brain shrieks, First draft! First draft! First draft!
###
Anyway, Work as Progressed here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1JFt_HDaThoI2_jU2VcEcygyvcX7-PkS3qp9HfTxnIFc/edit
###
In News of the Social:
TaxBwana Linda finally texted me back. I have been trying to set up a lunch date with TaxBwana Linda all summer long to no avail. Dates wouldn’t line up.
And you gotta know, it’s a very big deal for me to reach out socially to someone ‘cause on some deep level—the level that mediates all social connections—I’m absolutely convinced that no one in their right mind would ever want to hang out with someone like me-e-e-eeee.
Like what real human grownup hangs out with anyone when they’re my age, right?
Grownups don’t hang out.
They socialize.
It’s all very structured and civilized.
###
So!
I had texted TaxBwana Linda last week, suggesting lunch.
And she had not texted back.
Ho—kay! I thought. My quest for True Friendship in the Quaint & Scenic Hudson Valley hits another dead end.
But then yesterday, I got this text: Sorry for getting back to you so late. I would very much enjoy getting together. I think we have a lot in common. I am, however, right now, not in a good “head space.” Lots of reasons, part wrist, part family stuff. Will reach out when I am feeling social again….
TOTALLY understand… I texted back. Blah, blah, blah. Do reach out when you're feeling more social, even if it's a long, long time from this moment.
To which she responded: Fingers crossed it won’t be a “long, long time from this moment.” I would very much like to crawl out of this hole my dark little Dostoevskian brain has dug … sooner, as opposed to later.
To which I responded, Oh, do you channel Dostoevski in moods like this? I do Tess of the d'Urbervilles. Specifically that last scene when she wanders mad, hopeless, & pathetic into Stonehenge…
And now we’re texting about Great Books.
###
Two morally instructive conclusions suggest themselves from this exchange!
(1) One should never automatically conclude that one is the cause of anybody else’s behavior
(2) I like people who read a lot.
no subject
Date: 2023-06-27 04:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-06-28 11:46 am (UTC)