Temporary Reprieve

Distraction is a problem for me right now. I've gotten accustomed to editing with something on in the background, and shutting everything down to just focus on the writing has become uncomfortable again. How spoiled of me. 

I think I've entered a temporary zen-like state. The anxiety has retreated again, but the impatience hasn't returned. I've been focusing on enjoying as much of my life now as I can. I want to go to the zoo, walk through the trees, spend some time cuddling and playing video games. 

Seattle is beautiful just now. It'll still be beautiful during CW but not quite as beautiful as it is now. Spring and autumn are our best seasons. Summer has too much light. 

I should be writing. I've got a new short story in the works. But I worry that after CW I'll be disappointed in any of the work that came before. Which gives me a great excuse to be lazy. But tonight, I'm going to write anyway.

A sense of time

I have a weird relationship with time. Everything is either far away or utterly immediate, with very little middle ground. Waiting for the call from Clarion, time was extended. Days were weeks, weeks were months. I knew the call would come by the end of March if it would come at all. But the end of March felt like an impossibility.

After the call, time stayed stretched. How on earth is a person supposed to contain over ninety days in their head? Impossible. I didn't even bother counting down, actively avoided thinking of how many days remained. 

Too many.

And then...

Suddenly, time collapsed in on itself. Two months.

Two months?

That's no time at all. Come May, which is only a handful of days away, it'll be a month away by one way of thinking. Because it's in June. When May is over, June happens.

Am I nervous? Of course I am. More than nervous. I was so excited. I am so excited. But the excitement is starting to take a back seat to the nerves. Hopefully I don't end up hiding under the tables on the first day.

I continue to read work by the instructors. But I've also switched my focus back to writing. After finishing rewrites, I deserved a little break. But my original plan, to not work on anything new until CW, was silly. I can't jump into the ocean after refusing to even sip at water for three months. 

On Insecurities

I'm a little down tonight. Part of it is everything that's gone on this week. And not even what has happened, but what I'm afraid will happen. The hysteria we're capable of as a country and the damage that does. That's what really scares me.

The rest is just... an old realization, I suppose. You should know I'm not actually very good with people. Friends are something I've been bad at in the past. I've fallen out of touch with nearly everyone I was once close to and sometimes that leaves me feeling isolated. I have Sean, of course. And Noz, though she's across the country. But they're the only people I talk to regularly. Really. That's not a joke. I talk to people at work, of course, but that's different. For regular companionship, it's my boyfriend, and a single friend on the internet.

Until...

Now. Clarion. Not even Clarion. Pre-Clarion. And suddenly, I'm part of this conversation with these people I genuinely want to know. But I worry. Will I be able to create a genuine connection with them once we meet? And just as importantly, can I maintain that connection, those friendships, after Clarion is over?

I've failed in the past.

But past failure doesn't mean eternal failure, right?

I want to hope it doesn't. But I am really, sincerely, deeply bad at this.

On the bright side, my reading is going well. I've finished Heart-Shaped Box and I've started reading Samuel R. Delany's short fiction. That means I've successfully read something by all of this years Clarion instructors. I'm not done yet, obviously. I need to read some of Hand's short fiction, and I've just picked up a collection by Datlow I hadn't read previously. I also have Tender Morsels, and Horns waiting for my attention. Lots yet to do!

I'm a little to worn down to do my usual thoughts on the texts I've been reading. I'll just say, for now, that reading Hill really made me think about my own writing. He goes so many places I avoid. I'm not sure I want to go to those exact places, but I definitely need to learn to push my boundaries. It's not that I'm into dark for dark's sake, but I could see the places where those images and ideas made the story work and helped it linger. The scene with snuff film... *shivers*

Countdowns

Being sick is a great way to get reading done. I left work early today, crawled into bed, and went back and forth between reading and napping. As I was home alone I didn't work on Heart-Shaped Box. Instead, I continued reading Black Juice. I can now add it to my list of finished Clarion books.

Margo Lanagan writes exactly the sort of short fiction I find most intimidating. Lush, disturbing, and difficult to pin down. My own writing tends to be fairly conventional, I think. Is that bad? When I read work like Lanagan's it feels bad. Some of the lines in Black Juice continue to linger with me. And I don't think I can do that yet. I want my writing to haunt people.

I continue to struggle with Heart-Shaped Box. Mind, I'm enjoying it. Even though it scares me and I can't read it much when I'm alone, I think it's incredibly well done. I want to know what happens to these characters. Georgia is becoming more and more multi-dimensional, as is Judas. And it's the sort of crisp, clear, well sculpted narrative I most enjoy. The problem is, I simply can't seem to read it critically. Everytime I pick it up, I get too involved in the story and I completely lose my critical eye. I think it would be easier if I was listening to it as an audio book. I'm much better at breaking down things I'm listening to. I've got Horns lined up to listen to, so maybe I'll do better at analyzing his style in that.

Still need to reread Fragile Things and work my way through the collection of Delany short stories I picked up. And that's just to start.

I'm counting down to CW and I hate that. I don't want to be. I want to live in the now. The now is limited. These perfect, sweet Sundays with Sean are limited. And I will have so little of him at CW. How stupid to count past such days, to care more for this grand event then these small moments of lizard happiness. I am trying to think about it differently. I want to make a list of all the things I need to do in my remaining Sundays. I want to treat them as precious, not disposable. Probably, I should extend that into the other days too. I enjoy my job. I shouldn't take it for granted either.

Ups and Downs

My to-do list for Clarion is getting longer as the days past. My work isn't granting me leave, which changes things a bit. There's still a good chance they'll rehire me, so it doesn't necessarily mean unemployment when the experience is over. Regardless, though, I'm losing insurance, and that's a big deal. I need to get into my doctor to get prescriptions renewed. I need a new pair of glasses (possibly too). I should probably even try to squeeze in a visit to the dentist if I can afford it. Nothing on that list is fun, but it all needs to be done.

It's a little surprising to discover I can still have bad days when my world is gleaming so brightly. But the day that I found out they wouldn't be able to give me leave wasn't one of my better ones.

In slightly more exciting news, I just got a new computer! The laptop I'm typing this on weighs about half-a-ton, is huge, and doesn't have a working battery. I have to stay plugged into a wall outlet at all times. It also lacks a camera. Sean was pretty adamant about wanting me to have something light-weight with a long battery life for Clarion. So he got me a bitsy little netbook. It's adorable! I want to eat it. And it weighs just a hair more than nothing. It'll be much more suited to my needs than my poor, beaten-up laptop. 

My reading list continues to expand. I now have a book of short stories by everyone but Elizabeth Hand, but I'll get hers soon. I've finished Radiant Days, which was lovely. It ended well and I'm always relieved when a novel doesn't botch the landing. 

On the other hand, I haven't made much progress with Heart-Shaped Box. It's just so creepy! I've only made it through the first hundred pages. I can't read it when I'm alone in the house, which makes it harder. I'm trying to figure out what exactly Hill does to make it scary but I get distracted by being scared and lose track of the craft elements. He is brilliant, though. His writing is so precise and clean. So fast, too. Not a word wasted.

I've also started reading Lanagan's Black Juice. I'm about halfway through the stories and they're all so delightful strange. I loved 'Singing my Sister Down'. Made my throat tighten as I read it. Like Hand, she's got a knack for truly lovely prose. Lush, but not in a distracting way. I may start reading with a highlighter, though I hate marking up my books.

Giving Myself Homework

Wednesday, I finished my novel revisions. This is great news for a number of reasons. Primarily, because it means I finished my novel revisions. That's two drafts done this year, each taking next time than the last. The next draft will be mostly small tweaks, I think. I still think I'll be able to start querying agents this year, even with the rather large distraction dropped right in the middle.

And by distraction, of course, I mean the wonder that is my acceptance to Clarion West. And CW is the second reason why it's wonderful that my current rounds of revisions are done. I finally have time to focus on my self-assigned homework.

Getting to know my instructors' work before I attend is important to me,  and it's embarrassing how poorly versed I am in most of them.

At work, I've been listening to Elizabeth Hand's Radiant Days. Short spurts while distracted is far from the best way to experience a book, I'll admit. But there are only so many hours in a day and I spend a lot of them at work. On the bright side, Elizabeth Hand's prose is perfect for listening to. It's so lush and descriptive, I want to eat it. I feel like I could bite into it, lick the juice off my fingers. I'm still not sure how I feel about the story, but I don't really care. I just want to keep hearing the way she combines words.

In addition, I've begun reading Joe Hill's Heart-Shaped Box. I'm a bit nervous about it, actually. I don't generally read horror, and I don't read horror for pretty solid reasons. When I was a kid, I had night terrors. The sort where you wake screaming and hallucinate. Mind, that was when I was three and four, but it made an impression on me. I learned to avoid feeding the part of my mind that makes monsters. I'm still prone to nightmares, though most of them are emotional not monsterish. Sean's always complaining that the version of him that exists in my head is an asshole. In the end, though, all that doesn't matter. I'm studying under Joe Hill. He writes horror. And some of my fellow students also write horror. If I'm going to be critiquing their stuff, I want to have a certain familiarity with the rhythms and tropes of the genre. Part of my homework for myself is to develop that familiarity before June. I'll be picking up some collections of horror short fiction next time I'm at the bookstore to help with that.

As to the book in question? I'm only a chapter in and I can already tell the man is brilliant. The voice in the piece is incredibly strong and believable, in only a few pages I already feel I have a solid grasp on what sort of person Jude is. That's something I want to learn. My novel's protagonist doesn't start shining fast enough. If I can pick up on some of Joe Hill's tricks for getting a character on the page fast, I'll be thrilled.