There wasn’t any spam in my comments inbox when I checked it earlier. Either the spammers have figured out that I cut up their messages and turn them into word collages, or I haven’t posted enough.
Alright. I haven’t posted at all in months. Still not sure that any isn’t actually too much, but, hey.
The posting frequency will pick up in November, because I’ve talked myself into doing NaNoWriMo again. This year, I won’t be trying to do it in conjunction with multiple for hire book projects and classes and process/systems analysis work and a stream of proposal writing gigs and being Mom and Wife and Crazed Thanksgiving Piewright and whatever-the-heck-else. I’ll just be those (at least) nine people1, and yes, take classes and do the process/systems analysis work, and okay, there’s this business development gig that I might be doing and the proposal work’s still going on, and … yeah, it really doesn’t sound that much different from last November, does it?
The real difference, sure, is the absence of “multiple for hire book projects”. Those left me feeling like I’d signed up to be a brain donor in a zombie hospital’s ER. I could not Weird Think for months, which was not only sad but pretty damn scary — though, granted, maybe not for the people who live with me. It was the first time that doing creative work had ever drained me to the point where a good night’s sleep and playing in dirt and getting out to see trees didn’t fix it.2 But, I’m better3 now, thanks to a summer-long stint of armadilloing, which included not taking classes and making myself read a few fat novels off my TBR pile.4
This all was, as we say at home, a Learning Experience.
1You can find me on the NaNoWriMo site (and some other places) as Nineme.
2To paraphrase One Republic, the love ran out. I generally eventually hate everything I write (which is a sign to me that it’s close to done), but I never start out that way. Looking at a blank Page One and hating it as much as if I’d just typed “The End”? Not good. Not good at all.
3For certain values of ‘better’. I’m no longer walking around feeling like I’m wearing a metal bucket on my head with holes cut out for my eyes.
4I’ve made my peace with Goodreads. I’ve haven’t yet worked myself up to broadcasting my opinions about the books I read, but, hey, baby steps.