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Blerg.
Now that we've got that out of the way, I'll elaborate:
Blerg. No, apparently I can't think of anything better to say than that.
Guess what. We've been informed by the library board that we don't have any money in the budget for new books. I've still got a list of a hundred-some titles I wanted -- one could say NEEDED-- to get LAST year that were not purchased. Now I'm looking at all my usual book review blogs and I want to say WHAT. WHAT IS THE POINT. YOU ARE ALL SO MANY INTERESTING TITLES IN A THEORETICAL WAY, BUT YOU ARE NOW MEANINGLESS TO ME. TOO MANY BOOKS. TOO MANY BOOKS I HAVE NO PRACTICAL APPLICATION FOR.
Because of course I'm still having my weird aversion to reading-- this phase I'm going through (I can only assume)-- when I just look at books which previously I would have been all "I can't wait to dive into that!" over and say "eh." (Although, Mark Flowers, you will be pleased to hear that the first Bartimaeus book came up in a return pile this morning and I immediately checked it right back out to myself). So I can't even read book reviews for my OWN interests. Because all of a sudden they're not my own interests.
Though I think I might want to go on a nonfiction binge. Rereading A Briefer History of Time inspired me. It seems to be just narrative fiction that I'm suddenly burnt out on-- facts and history may be a refreshing switch. Anyone want to recommend some good, readable nonfiction? Note that this can be for any age level-- while I do mostly read young people's fiction, I also tend toward adult NONfiction, so you don't have to feel limited in any way. Normally as a librarian doing Readers Advisory I would not remotely settle for a request such as that without asking follow-up questions, like, "Well, what subjects are you INTERESTED IN?" But I honestly don't care about the subject: I'm a well-rounded nerd. I just like learning things. If it's presented in an engaging way, I'm interested. THAT'S what I'm looking for.
But talking about half-my-favorite-blogs-feeling-inapplicable-to-me-all-of-a-sudden, I had a similar thought yesterday morning. WRITING blogs seem to be all about PUBLICATION. Finding agents, editors, Getting A Break, marketing, so on so forth. Five years ago that was all interesting to me. Now, well, you've written a book? Good for you. YOU'RE ALREADY AWESOME. I wrote a book or two before. None of them are anywhere close to publishable. They need work. And I'm not sure they DESERVE the work. I could write something NEW. But what?
I think I have no ideas. But my morning journal tells me I have LOADS of ideas, crazy wonderful things that come to me in my sleep, and obviously they'd need quite a lot of work to be at all useful, but there's HUNDREDS of them, nonetheless. Why, last night there was this thing about smuggling people across some kind of checkpoint in a forced-hybernation state in the luggage compartments of tour buses, and I was afraid somebody would forget they were there and just leave those poor people asleep with the luggage FOREVER-- and that? That's got STORY potential, right there and obvious. Also, there was this traveling saleslady, and she had this poster-thingy divided into bulls-eye-like sections with FABULOUS PRIZES in each, and you were supposed to chuck these cardboard tokens at it to see what FABULOUS PRIZE you could win, and I suspected it of somehow involving magnets so that nobody ACTUALLY ever won the cruise or the king-sized air mattress and everyone ended up with the devotional bookmark. That, also, has story potential. Also also, I actually-instead-of-imaginarily married Martin Freeman, and somebody sent us John Green's new book as a wedding present, even though said book is about terminally-ill teenagers, which isn't exactly wedding present material, though if I was marrying Martin Freeman I don't think I'd care. I am not sure that one has as much story potential, though perhaps book-about-terminally-ill-teenagers-as-wedding-present has potential as symbolism in some obscure potential story I can't think of at the moment. Also also also, I was weeding and watering African violets with flat ginger ale, and that doesn't really have any story potential at all, but my point is, this was all just ONE NIGHT of dreaming for me, and not a particularly eventful night, at that!
When I started writing, as a child, EVERY one of my stories was based on a dream. It's possible that therein lies the start of overcoming my writer's block: going back to my roots, you might say. When I feel BRAVE enough to take writing seriously again, I will pull out my morning journals, grab a few dreams, and just SEE WHERE THEY TAKE ME.
Because the other thing, I was thinking about yesterday morning, is I'm too hung up on getting the right answer. I'd pulled a writing prompt out of my box for the first time in months, and I noticed it was one I had skipped once before (it was, if you're curious, "What song best expresses the concept of love?" or something worded slightly differently, and I wasn't able to answer it until I split it into at least six different KINDS of "love," and even then... well, let me get out of this parenthesis)-- AND I'D SKIPPED IT BECAUSE I WASN'T SURE I KNEW THE RIGHT ANSWER. In my personal journal which no one will ever see, until I die and become famous and people care about its existence. So after I had rambled about possible songs that MIGHT answer the question in ALL six-or-so connotations of Love, it occurred to me that even though I STILL didn't know if I'd actually picked the best answers, THAT WASN'T THE POINT. The point was WRITING about it.
And that's one of my major blockers. I feel like I must write the RIGHT thing, instead of just writing and writing tons of crap until I discover something wonderful. I don't NEED to decide what to write, I just need to keep writing and pick out what clicks.
Still, I'm still not ready to take that step. First I need to get my life sorted out and organized and calm a bit where I can DEVOTE time to writing crap. I've promised myself that, when Maddie starts preschool two mornings a week in the fall, I will use those mornings for writing. NOTHING ELSE. No errands, no Internet, no housework, NOTHING I could be doing NOW without that child-free time. That's quite a few months away. But if I can't manage anything before then, I at least know I have something to look forward to.
Now that we've got that out of the way, I'll elaborate:
Blerg. No, apparently I can't think of anything better to say than that.
Guess what. We've been informed by the library board that we don't have any money in the budget for new books. I've still got a list of a hundred-some titles I wanted -- one could say NEEDED-- to get LAST year that were not purchased. Now I'm looking at all my usual book review blogs and I want to say WHAT. WHAT IS THE POINT. YOU ARE ALL SO MANY INTERESTING TITLES IN A THEORETICAL WAY, BUT YOU ARE NOW MEANINGLESS TO ME. TOO MANY BOOKS. TOO MANY BOOKS I HAVE NO PRACTICAL APPLICATION FOR.
Because of course I'm still having my weird aversion to reading-- this phase I'm going through (I can only assume)-- when I just look at books which previously I would have been all "I can't wait to dive into that!" over and say "eh." (Although, Mark Flowers, you will be pleased to hear that the first Bartimaeus book came up in a return pile this morning and I immediately checked it right back out to myself). So I can't even read book reviews for my OWN interests. Because all of a sudden they're not my own interests.
Though I think I might want to go on a nonfiction binge. Rereading A Briefer History of Time inspired me. It seems to be just narrative fiction that I'm suddenly burnt out on-- facts and history may be a refreshing switch. Anyone want to recommend some good, readable nonfiction? Note that this can be for any age level-- while I do mostly read young people's fiction, I also tend toward adult NONfiction, so you don't have to feel limited in any way. Normally as a librarian doing Readers Advisory I would not remotely settle for a request such as that without asking follow-up questions, like, "Well, what subjects are you INTERESTED IN?" But I honestly don't care about the subject: I'm a well-rounded nerd. I just like learning things. If it's presented in an engaging way, I'm interested. THAT'S what I'm looking for.
But talking about half-my-favorite-blogs-feeling-inapplicable-to-me-all-of-a-sudden, I had a similar thought yesterday morning. WRITING blogs seem to be all about PUBLICATION. Finding agents, editors, Getting A Break, marketing, so on so forth. Five years ago that was all interesting to me. Now, well, you've written a book? Good for you. YOU'RE ALREADY AWESOME. I wrote a book or two before. None of them are anywhere close to publishable. They need work. And I'm not sure they DESERVE the work. I could write something NEW. But what?
I think I have no ideas. But my morning journal tells me I have LOADS of ideas, crazy wonderful things that come to me in my sleep, and obviously they'd need quite a lot of work to be at all useful, but there's HUNDREDS of them, nonetheless. Why, last night there was this thing about smuggling people across some kind of checkpoint in a forced-hybernation state in the luggage compartments of tour buses, and I was afraid somebody would forget they were there and just leave those poor people asleep with the luggage FOREVER-- and that? That's got STORY potential, right there and obvious. Also, there was this traveling saleslady, and she had this poster-thingy divided into bulls-eye-like sections with FABULOUS PRIZES in each, and you were supposed to chuck these cardboard tokens at it to see what FABULOUS PRIZE you could win, and I suspected it of somehow involving magnets so that nobody ACTUALLY ever won the cruise or the king-sized air mattress and everyone ended up with the devotional bookmark. That, also, has story potential. Also also, I actually-instead-of-imaginarily married Martin Freeman, and somebody sent us John Green's new book as a wedding present, even though said book is about terminally-ill teenagers, which isn't exactly wedding present material, though if I was marrying Martin Freeman I don't think I'd care. I am not sure that one has as much story potential, though perhaps book-about-terminally-ill-teenagers-as-wedding-present has potential as symbolism in some obscure potential story I can't think of at the moment. Also also also, I was weeding and watering African violets with flat ginger ale, and that doesn't really have any story potential at all, but my point is, this was all just ONE NIGHT of dreaming for me, and not a particularly eventful night, at that!
When I started writing, as a child, EVERY one of my stories was based on a dream. It's possible that therein lies the start of overcoming my writer's block: going back to my roots, you might say. When I feel BRAVE enough to take writing seriously again, I will pull out my morning journals, grab a few dreams, and just SEE WHERE THEY TAKE ME.
Because the other thing, I was thinking about yesterday morning, is I'm too hung up on getting the right answer. I'd pulled a writing prompt out of my box for the first time in months, and I noticed it was one I had skipped once before (it was, if you're curious, "What song best expresses the concept of love?" or something worded slightly differently, and I wasn't able to answer it until I split it into at least six different KINDS of "love," and even then... well, let me get out of this parenthesis)-- AND I'D SKIPPED IT BECAUSE I WASN'T SURE I KNEW THE RIGHT ANSWER. In my personal journal which no one will ever see, until I die and become famous and people care about its existence. So after I had rambled about possible songs that MIGHT answer the question in ALL six-or-so connotations of Love, it occurred to me that even though I STILL didn't know if I'd actually picked the best answers, THAT WASN'T THE POINT. The point was WRITING about it.
And that's one of my major blockers. I feel like I must write the RIGHT thing, instead of just writing and writing tons of crap until I discover something wonderful. I don't NEED to decide what to write, I just need to keep writing and pick out what clicks.
Still, I'm still not ready to take that step. First I need to get my life sorted out and organized and calm a bit where I can DEVOTE time to writing crap. I've promised myself that, when Maddie starts preschool two mornings a week in the fall, I will use those mornings for writing. NOTHING ELSE. No errands, no Internet, no housework, NOTHING I could be doing NOW without that child-free time. That's quite a few months away. But if I can't manage anything before then, I at least know I have something to look forward to.
