Writing is the geometry of the soul.
Plato (via maxkirin)
Fear is a wonderful thing, in small doses. You ride the ghost train into the darkness, knowing that eventually the doors will open and you will step out into the daylight once again. It’s always reassuring to know that you’re still here, still safe. That nothing strange has happened, not really. It’s good to be a child again, for a little while, and to fear — not governments, not regulations, not infidelities or accountants or distant wars, but ghosts and such things that don’t exist, and even if they do, can do nothing to hurt us.
having an editor go over everything is, yes, nervewracking, but this place hires professionals, so my editor knows that when she says “I wrote this sentence to add content to your article but please work your writerly magic” what she’s really saying is, “you’re here because you’re a competent writer, and I’m here because I’m a competent editor, and there’s no reason we need to get offended by that” and everything is better.
browsing available ebooks and yoooooooo i just found a historical romance about a young black girl in st louis and her employer who is an older eastern european jewish dude
like im not saying romance Is Feminist, is really Anything, as a genre, and also i havent read this one (i am going to). but i AM saying that if you write it off on account of it being ~dumb~ or somethin, you’re missing out on a lot
this speaks to me ok
every night of Band in Seattle is like going through a relationship.
you start out aflutter and determined. you rush into every task with boundless energy. you take them out to eat and you laugh and laugh at inside jokes. you work hard to prepare everything, and it takes blood sweat and tears to do it right. you have to learn and relearn lessons you learned from your stories in books or on TV. you tentatively tell them, “I like you a lot” and, “I would really miss you if you went away.” you’re setting up mics, chairs, the band, the bar.
and then. then it begins, for real, that first “I love you” (or, perhaps, the cue). YES. INTOXICATION. you’re riding high, edgy and nervous and exhilarated, hitting your marks. you fumble sometimes; you didn’t get much of a chance to warm up, or maybe it’s been a little while. you get handsy. and oh, the music is right, and oh, you’re a little sweaty, and the climax of the show washes over you.
intermission. maybe you’re apart for a few days (or just twenty-some minutes). a deep weariness overcomes you. you can’t imagine doing all of that again, riding the emotional roller coaster, staying on your feet for another whole journey. you gulp something down, shiver in the cold for a smoke. you commiserate with your friends and peers. why am I doing this? you wonder. is this right for me? is this really what I’m destined to do?
you trudge back to them, because you have to. you’ve come this far, haven’t you?
it’s grueling. the doubts keep coming. but there’s a light, many lights, lots of them. shining on you, and shining on them. there are gleams and melodies of hope that this could be – this could be special. this could be something really great. you might be in the right place, at the right time, with the right reasons and rationales. and now you know, one way or the other. this is it, or this is not it.
you shake hands or you embrace. you walk with them or you go your separate ways without much to say. just like that, the long night is over.
in the end, it works or it fails, but you’ve run the gauntlet. you’ve experienced much of the range of human emotions, learned a little something, made compromises, grown for it.
and now all you want to do is fall into bed.
“I notice that you use plain, simple language, short words and brief sentences. That is the way to write English―it is the modern way and the best way. Stick to it; don’t let fluff and flowers and verbosity creep in. When you catch an adjective, kill it. No, I don’t mean utterly, but kill most of them―then the rest will be valuable. They weaken when they are close together. They give strength when they are wide apart. An adjective habit, or a wordy, diffuse, flowery habit, once fastened upon a person, is as hard to get rid of as any other vice.” – Mark Twain
(via braebuc)
Pre-NaNo musings
I’m four hours and thirteen minutes away from putting the first words down, for real, for G and K.
what a strange adventure this has been. what a life-changing shift in perspective. I expanded my horizons in so many ways thanks to those two, between who they are and who they represent, and the world in which they live.
this next part is going to be so exciting, and sweaty. maybe teary. definitely sentimental.
Ready?!
25 hours to go. I am so stoked for NaNoWriMo 2013. I just spent the last hour shoring up a few world building details that needed knowing before the furious tap-fest tomorrow at midnight (yes, I’m staying up – to write the dedication).
can’t believe I’m about to get this novel down on the page. DAMN! YEAH! GO TEAM NANO! //aggressive flailing