Yep...

 Yep. This is still here. 

 I'm still writing, just not here. Will that change? I wish I knew. 

Until another time...

 

Tuesday night

 So I have been in my writing class for several weeks now. It has been pretty successful as far as sparking some creativity in me, I believe. The group itself is pretty cool and all the writers are quite good. Several of them know each other already, so there is the occasional clique feeling, but I'm doing my best not to feel any residual high school inferiority. The prompts have been strong, and almost therapeutic for me. 

Some of the people in the class have also talked about doing different activities in the writing community. One which seems interesting to me is an Open Mic poetry night at some place downtown. I don't remember the name of the place right now, but I asked one of my classmates about it and was assured it isn't just a smoky bar with beatniks with berets tapping bongos. I've always wanted to do an Open Mic poetry night, so now is just gathering enough courage. And deciding on (or creating) some work I want to share. It's been a long time since I've written poetry seriously, but it might be time to jump back in to it.

The most exciting thing is that I have liked some of the short pieces I've written for this class thus far. In fact, the last two pieces I wrote I have really liked. I hardly ever really like my own writing, but I am quite proud of these two DRASTICALLY different pieces. In fact, one of them I am seriously considering expanding into a full novel. Maybe even work on it during NaNoWriMo. Or putting it aside and doing something else for NaNoWriMo. I've never done anything with this November challenge, but I think it could be fun/challenging.

Over the next couple days I will do a quick scrub edit of those last two pieces and will post them here. If anyone reads them, comment or touch base or something. I'd love to get any feedback.

Back to school

 Yeah.... The first post on this new blog was June 2020. Over three years later and there are 8 very short and mostly useless posts. The five projects I was was trying to push myself on have gone almost nowhere. Why? Life. Imposter syndrome. Depression. Family. On and on. It is always the same list with slightly different details. 

I don't want to compare to anyone else, but just recently a friend I went to college with just published her second critically acclaimed novel. This is in addition to the multiple books of poetry and other work she's done. I am not jealous, as she is definitely the best writer I have ever read, but it just gets me thinking about time. 

I'm 50 now. What do I have to show? What legacy am I leaving? When I'm gone, will there be anything to remember me? Is there anything worth remembering? 

I signed up for another writing class that starts in a few weeks. I promise I will put full effort into it and hopefully it can spark something, somehow. 

Maybe it will lead to more blog posts, who knows? I know no one reads this but me anyway.

Goodnight

 

50

 So... This is 50.

Happy Birthday, Heather

 Happy Birthday, Heather. I know you and I are not talking and it appears you have closed me out of your life, but I still want to send this birthday wish into the ether. Hopefully the sentiment will reach you and find you healthy and happy. That is all I've ever wanted for you. Happy Birthday!

 Hey. Trying this again. Turning 49 in a few days. My hip hurts. New kitchen floor has been installed. My library needs a complete overhaul. It's fucking hot outside. And one of these days I am going to sit down and actually write. I must. I want it.

 Ugh. Why can't I write? Why can't I sit down and write? This is torturous. 

Let's Be Real

It dawned on me late this evening that this "blog" serves its most important purpose as a running status of my mental health. With the coronavirus having shut down a large amount of society at large, I have not been able to attend therapy as I have in the past. I know there are other ways to have sessions (phone, video-chat, virtually, etc.) but I have not felt comfortable with those. I've been okay for this first four months in lockdown. I have focused on my family, trying to put the importance of staying physically healthy first and foremost. And most of the mental health work has been in trying to keep my children engaged and as anxiety-free as possible. But for me, the last couple days have been a bit trying. Not sure why exactly. It is almost Heather's birthday. Maybe that's it. The loneliness, the lack of friends, the self-imposed impulse towards introversion. I just feel alone. Lost. Again.

Could use a lack of procrastination right about now.

Yeah, so the new blog thing is not working out as well as I had hoped. It turns out that being stuck in the house with two young children during a lockdown is more about trying to stay sane than unlocking some ambitious work ethic. The good news is that it looks like there will be a lot more time to attempt these writing challenges. The bad news is that the good news is also the bad news. Right now, sleep sounds like the best thing.

June 9, 2020

The world is on fire. Just want to put that out there.

It isn't that I am not interested in talking about the things going on in the world. Things like the Covid-19 pandemic, the protests brought on by even more senseless racist killings of black people by police, or the utter shitstorm of this current presidential administration. I could talk on those things for days and days. But this blog is to help me focus. To help me focus on my writing. Because I am about to turn 47 and I have no more excuses.

I just backed up the blog posts from my previous blog, Rantings, Ravings, and Writings. As I was doing that, I noticed that I was too varied in what I was doing. Even worse was that it didn't lead anywhere. I've been stuck for too long. Bits and pieces. Starts and stops. Words. Phrases. A graveyard.

Perhaps I can pick through those old posts and find usable nuggets. Perhaps not. We will see. But for now, I am moving forward with potentially five different projects.

Project A: Working Title: "Words from Inside" Olly Issacs narrator. First line - "With a whisper."

Project B: Working title: "The Breakup Album" Poems. My personal "Rumours," or "Blue," or "Blood on the Tracks."

Project C: Working Title: "Depression Stories" Multiple short stories. Invisible roommate as one. Flower growth. Missing words. More.

Project D: Working Title: "Force of Nature" Main character - Gail. Extension of previous story.

Project E: Working Title: "Family Holds" Brother/sister focus. Relationship with widowed father. Relationship with sister's wife. More.

The point I am trying to make is that this blog is going to be boring. So unless someone has an unfulfilled need to watch the behind-the-scenes of a struggling writer try to fight off his imposter syndrome and create something, this blog is typing into the void. That always works, right?

Starting Again

I had a "blog" for a while, but it fell by the wayside. I decided to start another one, this one mainly as a place to work through ideas, rough sketches, etc. If you've stumbled upon this, I apologize up front. But feel free to read along and let's see where it takes us.