Radio Paradise is completely obsessed with the new The National album.
This is not a bad thing.
So the post-novel ennui is ebbing, right on schedule, because as of today, I find myself running my fingers through my unfinished short stories and gloating over how cool they're going to be. I'm excited by them all, and can't wait to finish a few. I keep scribbling down ideas or a few sentences in their various files, poking at them, reading the bits I have and being happy.
It hasn't cleared up entirely yet, because none of them has provided me with the satisfying click of completeness--okay, you can write me now!
--in a while. But we're grooming each other, we are. And it's only a matter of time.
This is an uncomfortable stage, though--because I want to be working, but it's not ripe yet. But oh, have I got the figets. I need to finish some stuff!
And I had a nifty idea for Steles of the Sky
(which appears to be getting to keep its title, minus the direct article--which means I need to come up with matching titles for the other two books and a series title sooner or later) and I think I will need to write an outline or something before too long, because it is the sort of book that is asking for an outline.
I love this feeling. I feel unstuck, and like my mojo is working, for the first time since mid-2007. (Apparently my mojo has
been working, mind you, based on the opinions of other people--but that's not the same thing as feeling it, feeling relaxed and confident about the stories and their worth.) I'm actually enjoying writing.
I can keep this for a while, please? ( Collapse )i'm gonna write you a letter on a dusty boxcar wall