I finished my office’s move to the room unofficially known as the den. The guest room is now just the guest room and the mahogany desk that converts to a dining room table is back in the dining ell. The arts and crafts desk was […]
That is the question, although the choice is not really an either/or one. While starting to gather up my promotion materials for the external reviewers, the process somehow turned into me creating a new WordPress site just for the promotion dossier, not that doing WordPress […]
In some ways, I feel like I have wasted my entire sabbatical. I had a plan mapped out in my proposal and really very little of what was detailed there has happened. On the other hand, that doesn’t mean nothing has happened. I still finished the blog webtext and I have a good start on my ethos chapter for the ethos collection. DMAC was very productive and will lead to future work and good teaching projects for my classes. I learned through the rumor mill that my original book plan had very little chance of success because of other books already under contract. Whether or not that is true remains to be seen, but what I know for sure is that the opportunities that came up naturally since the start of the year gel better into a longer project than my original plan.
So, I may not end up with a book. I may end up with a poetry book, but that’s another story. I may not end up with a traditional one-author academic paper book. I suppose that should depress me, but given what scholarship I like to investigate, paper is rarely the best medium. A digital press of some sort is most likely the best place for my longer work.
So, for now, I will end up with at least one chapter, three articles, and (I hope) a bunch more poems. I’ve written over forty poem drafts since the beginning of 2014, and a good number of them are making the rounds. Detailing it like this, it sounds like a lot of writing, but despite it all, I feel like I’ve wasted time. I have to remind myself that this is still the very beginning of the summer and that I can and will write as much of the remaining work as I can in the just over two months I have left. I do that every summer, but this time, I’m not starting off exhausted. That has to count for something.
Another view from my new home office room. In between rain showers, this was a clear, blue Missouri day.
Today’s series of storms meant a storm headache for me, not all day, but as a sort of warning system before each line of storms moved through. Nothing big happened, at least not yet, but the heaviness and the headaches severely cut back on my productivity and made me rebellious about this, day 27 of the PAD Challenge and only three more days to go. The prompt today is “monsters” and I haven’t started. I will, though, but my heart isn’t in it.
Here’s the thing that keeps me going. I’ve learned, sad to say, that wanting to write, that wispy thing called inspiration, has very little to do with getting results. No, the real factor is just plain seat time and starting, rather than the feeling from the heart that I have something to write and by gosh, I’m going to write it. So, I’m going to write anyway– headache, lack of belief in my ability, and all. I wish I could just as easily turn off that inner voice that comes out at times and says “Yes, but how do you know it’s going to work THIS time?” It is an insidious, hateful version of self that comes out sometimes when I’ve had a series of submissions rejections, which has been the case since November.
No, that’s not true. I stopped sending out over winter break , waiting to find out about a major submission that was not simultaneous submit. I thought I could, if the poems were rejected, use each to seed a new packet. As it turned out, I waited close to three months, much too long to keep out of the market. So, that November date the headache-filled self stated is not really true. I started sending again in late March, so it’s been a month of only rejections.
So I’ll write. I’ll write, and in the morning, the headache will be gone and I will write again.
I filmed this when the first line of storm arrived around noon. The clouds don’t show well, but the wind through the azalea is a clue.