A Writer's Notebook, Day Seven-Hundred-And-Seventy-Two

I'm back in my office tonight, which makes me quite happy.  It would have been fine to be stuck out of here last night, if I had been warned that was going to happen, but I was not prepared at all, so I hadn't gotten any of the things I needed from this room.  I am writing a story and I didn't have any copy of it except on the computer (I am in the process of backing files up as we speak, and I do have copies of most of my work, just not the current version of that story).  As well, I am reading Susanna Clarke's new novel Piranesi and was rather eager to return to it.  I am still near the beginning, but it is a strange and beautiful book, and I am not yet certain what game it is playing, which I quite enjoy.  I am certain I will have more to say on it when I have read it through.  In a strange way, I am rather glad I was kept away from that book for the night, and from the office, by extension, as it had been some time since I felt that sense of wanting to get back to a book when one cannot.  I have great freedom to read when I wish to, and so I do not often feel that way, and to be gifted that again, to be reminded of the power of a book through its absence, that is an important thing to keep in mind, I believe, a feeling that helps to remind me of some aspects of a books potential and power.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poem: Neighborhood Inhabitants

Neighborhood Inhabitants There was a fox once, and another time, otters, and now a peacock that we think got lost during one of the storms. She stays down on the other end of the street, though, does not visit us. We have a racoon family that stays in our tree some nights, and there is a baby lizard, a brown basilisk, who we have seen several times. It is not supposed to be here, is invasive and troublesome to the local ecosystem, as are the duck.  I hear there are giant snails now who eat stucco or concrete or something of that sort. I have not seen one, though, I just heard they are here and big as my fist.
Read more

A Writer's Notebook, One-Thousand-Eight-Hundred-And-Seventy-Three

I am still finding it difficult to get back to a more productive work schedule at the moment.  In part, I am sure it is that I gave myself permission to slack off a bit, and it is difficult to walk that back, especially because I am still writing and being productive, even if not to the same degree. I know it would be good to get back to doing more writing, but I also know that I am still meeting my core obligations, even if at a more minimal level.  Really, I just need to make the choice and force myself to stick to it.  To that end, I am planning to at least get back to work on my longer projects again tomorrow, even if I don't increase the poetry output right away.
Read more

A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-One-Hundred-And-Thirty-Three

I received my acceptance to attend workshop at the Palm Beach Poetry Festival next year and am very excited to be working with Matthew Olzmann, a poet whose work I have admired for some time.  He has a rare capacity for being simultaneously absurd and serious in ways that are hysterical, but with devastating insights underneath.  I feel quite fortunate to have the PBPF, and can say, honestly, that each workshop I have attended there has been incredible.  As a person who has taken many workshops in my life, and who often finds them wanting, I am always astounded at the caliber of the classes at the festival, both in the instruction and in the community of poets I have encountered.  I only wish it could be more than just one week out of the year.
Read more