Good night, America. I’ve meant to write all night, first an old friend came over, then I was holding Abby, then we were watching the Great Debaters…You get the idea. I really wasn’t trying to procrastinate here. Really.
McAlpine was here earlier. We’ve talked about writing, in the past, as Craft (versus, I guess, divine inspiration) and I know that we are both essentially on the same page. To wit, we agree that writing (whether literature or song) should be pursued systematically, with discipline. Not whimsically and when the mood strikes. I’ve actually written about this specific thing a little bit in the past.
What I’ve come to realize is that I’m deeply afraid. Some call it “resistance” and others call it “procrastination” but I think it’s all fear. And so I want to read one more book, get one more tip, watch one more author interviewed…When, what I need to do, is the thing that I alledge to be preparing myself for with all of these guides, tips, and interviews. Do it every day, until something good comes out. And after reading a few forums (like the excellent NaNoWriMo forum) I know I’m not at the bottom of the totem pole. But I need to not care about that. Bah.
That is, more or less, what I wanted to write about earlier. No wonder, then, that it came up in conversation with Andrew, who I feel probably understands that part of me the best among all of my friends and acquaintences. Kindred, if you will, though not genetically. That’s another wonder of the english language, there are words that convey precisely what you’re going for, you just have to find them one.
Now I’m going to sleep. That’s enough for one night. Tomorrow, something else.