Tagged, and missing you all

I seem to have forgotten how to blog, which has led to anxiety--will you all forget me? Will I forget myself? If I don't blog, do I exist?

This is getting heavy. But I do miss you all--I miss sharing your daily insights, and adding my own to the heapful goodness. I hope I can get back to that soon. But naps have been sadly scarce, and nighttime sleep? Alas.

My novel has ground to a halt, same as this blog, same as my morning pages. I long to move them all into motion again soon--my rocks up the hill of Nothing.

Thinking a lot about fear, but nothing gels into a post. Maybe because the fear is so pervasive, it's almost like trying to grasp mist in my fingers. Short version--I am afraid. And I am tired of being afraid.


One thought has risen to the forefront, again and again. It feels important, even as I struggle to really understand it.


Fear doesn't say anything meaningful about who you are, or your possibilities, or your personhood. It is just...fear.

A dear friend tagged me, so I'll use that as a way to ease back into my home. Hope you had a wonderful holiday, more Thankful than mine was.

One word responses:

1. Yourself: discontent
2. Your partner: busy
3. Your hair: curly
4. Your mother: critical
5. Your father: hiding
6. Your favorite item: book
7. Your dream last night: meaningful
8. Your favorite drink: coffee
9. Your dream car: Mini
10. The room you are in: chaos
11. Your ex: lost
12. Your fear: meaninglessness
13. What you want to be in 10 years: writing
14. Who you hung out with last night: friend
15. What you're not: vapid
16. Muffins: apple
17: One of your wish list items: time
18: Time: hunger
19. The last thing you did: read
20. What you are wearing: pjs
21. Your favorite weather: sunny
22. Your favorite book: many
23. The last thing you ate: scone
24. Your life: Sisyphean
25. Your mood: longing
26. Your best friend: brilliant
27. What you're thinking about right now: sadness
28. Your car: fear
29. What you are doing at the moment: listing
30. Your summer: joyous
31. Your relationship status: still
32. What is on your TV: nothing
33. What is the weather like: unseasonable
34. When was the last time you laughed: today

Totally optional Tagging :)--Jessie, Alexandra

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Staying the course

Yes, I am wrenching that phrase back from the Republician leadership. Because that's exactly what I have done this month--I wrote every naptime, even when there were a million things I wanted to do, no, NEEDED to do. Wrote through many bouts of depression (which was unexpected...I thought that the depression would go away in the throes of writing). Wrote when I was completely out of words. And I wrote regardless of mood, or inspiration, or self-confidence. Regardless of any idea of talent, or lack thereof.


I'm nowhere near done with my story (just part one, or the first of nine Greek myths I plan to weave throughout my story), but I reached my word count goal. And more importantly, I proved to myself that, even with an intransigient toddler, a busy husband, and no child care, I could write 50,000 words. Not necessarily good words--hopefully that will come in the rewriting stage. But words, nonetheless. At the beginning of the month there was nothing--now there are 118 pages for me to work with.

I stayed the course.

50,023/50,000

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Everyday I write the book...

No, this isn't me...but it looks JUST like my wedding fabric! From www.kenzi.com/HENNA/HTML/gallery_hands.htm

These past few days have been wonderful--I've realized that I am at my happiest when I feel myself drenched in creativity. Even when I am not able to be on the computer, I manage to scribble a few ideas down in my notebook, standing up at the kitchen counter. Madam plays around me, with her own books, and I brew a pot of wonderful coffee aka Mommy's Little Helper. I love the feeling that everything is connected to my novel--random things I overhear at the local Whole Foods, watching my daughter discover the glory that is "up" and "down". This is the first time I've ever allowed myself to combine so many things I love in one story. Usually, I decide that many of my interests are not literary enough, or something, so the field on which I allow myself to play (and write) becomes very small. This year, with this story, I feel like a little girl, giggling furtively, shoving dark chocolate in my mouth.

So now I know that I can write something substantial during naptimes and sleeptimes, but now the question is--can I write anything GOOD during that time period? Oh, well, that's a question for the second draft.

Today is my second seven year wedding anniversary--the Indian wedding. I can still smell the sweet smoke rising from the havan, still feel the weight of my heavily embroidered dress (no, not a sari...I couldn't walk in one of those back then!).

I keep wanting to post about India, write about the feelings that India evoked in me. But for some reason, I can't--I can't seem to separate the experience into bloggable chunks. It was so overwhelming, such an embrace, such a bombardment of color and sensuality and smells and tastes and feelings of dirt and sunshine baking on my skin.

I've never been to a place where I felt closer to God in all of its vastness.

I hope you are all having a wonderful week--I miss visiting you. I think I'll be slowing down on the writing a little bit this week, so I can connect to you all again. Creativity without community is not fulfilling enough for me.

20,017/50,000

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Missives from Novel Land

Well, after spending most of October dithering about NaNoWriMo, I finally decided to just try it. What's the worst that could happen? I would feel worse about myself? Sadly, that's not possible lately, as I've been hounded with that old Black Dog (as William Styron so aptly named it) Depression.


Madam has been cooperative enough to take a late nap (oh, I'll pay for it tonight, but since I already made me daily word count, I'll manage somehow). Is it normal to already hate everything I've written? I feel the certainty of my plot and the opening I've written about fifty times in my head, drifting away. Why are our novels (and our paintings, and our songs) so much better before they've been committed to reality? I'm just trying to breathe and remind myself that it's not about a perfect novel, just about having a glorious mess from which to build once November is over and I can take a breath!


Hope you all had a wonderful Halloween--it was my wedding anniversary. Seven years. Things have gone all catawhompus between TEG and I lately, I won't lie. But in spite of that, there's no other person in the world I would want with me, raising Madam. I hope that once the welter of toddler activity calms itself, he and I can approach each other, shyly, like we did all those years ago, and meet the people we have now become.

And to my Nano Sisters--I'm Mardougrrl there as well, so send me a line through the forums (if they ever recover from the slam of traffic, that is) and let's buddy up.

Words: 3,286/50,000

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