Spacer March 19, 2005
  | Asymmetry | Archive | March 19, 2005 |



I think you're up too early in the morning when you find yourself thinking things like "vigilantism in pursuit of a supernatural menace, with which the normal authorities are unprepared to deal, is one thing; in pursuit of drug dealers it's quite another." But Lydia was up early this morning, so there you have it.

Week 1 of the experiment draws to a conclusion, and fairly successfully I think. Growing out of job dissatisfaction and the fact that it's been literally months since I wrote anything at work, and of course it's difficult to find the time at home, I decided on Monday morning that I would make time from the only place that I had it. Every morning this week after I've gotten ready for work I sat down and wrote whatever came into my head for fifteen minutes. No editing, no agonizing, just an attempt to reacquaint myself with the physical process of writing, the act of putting thoughts to paper. After all, it's not like anyone cares that I get to work before 7 a.m., and I nearly always end up staying later than I theoretically ought to. It went well all week except for Friday, when I was running late and could only give myself ten minutes.

The next step, I figure, is to change mediums. We'll see what happens. I have been enjoying writing on paper -- I even dug out one of my old fountain pens for that extra physical feedback -- but the whole idea after all is to get myself back to a place where I can write things that I think other people might actually enjoy reading, and that means putting it out there. I'm trying to avoid mental comparisons with the Bleat -- James is light-years out of my league. But I'm sure there are thousands if not tens or even hundreds of thousands of wannabes out there pounding their daily thoughts into the ether.

Given the usual run of my concerns lately, most of my writing has been about either food or Lydia. Or my job. Less than a week to go until the Big Meeting when I find out if I'm still employed. This weekend I'm sending out a resume; it's been almost exactly three years since I last did that. I am fairly certain at the moment that the things I think I would most enjoy doing (serious writing and/or editing in either the technical or food fields) are almost impossible to break into unless you know someone or are willing to put in fifteen years dues-paying. I don't know anyone and I have a family to support (still getting used to the sound of that) which makes dues a lot harder to pay. But we'll see what happens (I say that a lot) -- I'm not on any particular timetable, and indeed I just made the decision that I think I might like to move into a different line of work someday a week ago. There's lots of time. In the meantime, I'll be looking for another tech writing gig, since that's arguably what I do best. But you can expect this column? page? space? to be filled pretty regularly with food and my daughter. Maybe once in a while I'll throw in something for the novel, should inspiration strike me.

Remember: Fifteen minutes (or more, I suppose), no editing. This could really be fun, and will certainly be a challenge! The part that kind of excites me is that, having done it for a week, I really do feel better about myself. Writing is that important to me, and I don't think I even realized that when I'm not doing it, I don't feel entirely like me. But now I'm getting myself back, and it feels wonderful.

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Except where otherwise noted, all material on this site is © 2005 Rebecca J. Stevenson