Apologies for my absence

Well, it’s now November 11th, 2017 (Happy Veterans’ Day to all my fellow vets), and I don’t think I’ve posted anything since my delayed final write-up on Stan Lee’s LA Comic Con.

My sincerest apologies for the absence.

As has been reported previous, I signed up to attempt the NaNoWriMo this month, with the goal of producing at least 50,000 words of draft toward a novel. That was my plan, but you know the old saying: Everyone’s got a plan till they get hit in the mouth.

I think Socrates said that. Or not.

Now, while I did not get hit in the mouth, either literally or metaphorically, I did have some realizations. Some of them were good, some not so good, depending on your point of view.

Here’s my first: while I write very well under a timeline, it must be an actual, no-shit-this-needs-to-be-done kind of timeline. I can’t fool myself into an artificially generated “drop dead” date.

That doesn’t mean I can write, of course. I can string ’em together with the best; I know it, and folks that have read my work know it.

Second: I am not a one trick pony. Actually, I have long speculated that, had I grown up now instead of when I did, I would probably ave been diagnosed as “somewhere on the spectrum.” The low-end, to be sure, but definitely on the spectrum. My focus is like shooting an arrow a hundred yards from a moving horse while blindfolded and never having used a bow before. It takes a miracle to hit the target.

But oh, when it does, it’s a thing of beauty.

And I’ve a dozen or more targets to shoot at, so varied are my interests and demands on my attention.

Third: I like having something away from the keyboard. I like good, quality television and film. I like when my daughter comes over for a visit. I like a nice drive. I like spending time with my wife on the couch doing… nothing.

All of these things may keep me from some arbitrarily determined, regularly scheduled writing time, but I like to believe these things also make the time I do spend writing better, more special, more effective.

Most important, they keep me grounded in my life. It’s a life I’ve spent many years trying to construct for myself, not always intelligently, or even successfully, but I consider its preservation the single most important item on my otherwise ever-shifting priority list.

Obviously, this is my way of saying NaNoWriMo has fallen away. It’s over for me.

Does this make me a bad writer? No. A bad author, perhaps, one who cannot simply decide to sit down and vomit out tens of thousands of words at a time (I know people who can, and for the longest time I envied them), But my writing is, and will continue to be, exceptional.

But more important, I will be a happier and more complete person of the type I want to be.

This doesn’t mean I will not still be writing, either; far from it. I plan to write as much as I can, given the dictates I have set for myself with regards to the rest of my life.

And I’m okay with that.

 

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