Howdy, folks!
Welcome once again to the Omnium Gatherum.
Or, if you’re new here, welcome to the Omnium Gatherum.
This will definitely be a quick and dirty one.
Today is my birthday. Not only am I past the half century mark, I can be assured that I have fewer days ahead of me than behind me. Barring any significant technological advances or any other miracle that extends human life beyond its current limits, that is.
Perhaps that explains why I’ve been in a bit of a funk lately.
Not so much about the getting older. That’s built into the human condition. But how am I spending my days, is the real question.
For the most part, I am caring for elders during most of my days, and trying to squeeze writing in between and around the events of a typical day.
Someone not necessarily really concerned recently asked me how my writing was going and I gave a noncommittal answer. Mostly because it was the typical question I do get asked. Also because it was being asked out of faux courtesy. But the question itself fit into the general mood of the past few weeks.
As Summer settles in, so does what I call Migraine Season. Usually during the summer months I find myself huddled up on every fan I can fire up, trying to keep my body cool enough to lessen or mitigate the occurrence of migraines. Unfortunately being cold is not something seniors desire, even when it’s in the 80s or higher outside and inside. Add in the fact that I find any kind of long range thinking or even thinking in general to be taxing and undesirable during this time of year. It’s much easier for me to sit and watch some video or listen to a podcast than it is to sit at my laptop and write.
As I’m writing this, irony of ironies, today’s migraine is picking up some steam. Or as I like to say, trying to find some Stephen King gallows humor in my situation, The Woman With The Jackhammer is gearing up to go to town on a long stretch of road in my head. So I guess I’d better get to my point asap.
My point this time around is I finally really got started writing my first novel, book, tome, or what I’m calling my Big Dumb White Whale, in honor of Larry Niven and Steven Pressfield, ends up being last year. After years of thinking and planning and praying in a lot of ways for direction, I finally had a grasp on the overall shape of the tale and most of the core cast who will be operating in the bulk of the tall tale. I also put into place a really wacky system of checks and balances, for lack of a better term, into my plotting and scripting process. As it is turning out, that system is doing its best to keep yours truly on track and actually producing something most days during this long and not yet quite so hot summer.
Like Don Quixote, I need a big target upon which to aim my noble efforts.
And like Don Quixote, I may be charging at windmills, in the sense that I have no idea who the audience is for my Big Dumb White Whale besides myself. Maybe that has to be enough, as I know I’m not going to be writing what folks would expect or what the markets are buying per se. But I look at my baby and, rather than killing my not so little darling, I’m encouraging it to be as big and wild and weird as it can be, simply for the joy of writing it.
I think that’s a perfect good way to spend the days that I have, given that so much of our wonderful world is filled with people doing what they have to do to survive.
I was asked what I did want to do for my birthday.
My answer was nothing, much to the surprise and disappointment to the person asking.
The deeper truth is I’m already doing what I want when I turn on my laptop and open up the three or four files and grab the books and notebooks that comprise the various and sundry pieces and ideas for the Big Dumb White Whale.
The gift is the work, no matter how much or how little.
The celebration is the work and the satisfaction it brings.
And little pieces like this are often the gravy on top of the icing, to borrow from Eric Bogosian.
And I’m still working on the Watchmen piece. As of right now, I won’t be in a frame of mind to finish that piece until October/November. There’s too much deep thinking that requires and I’ve got the summertime blues as it were.
Happy Birthday to me and all other Leos out there!
Until next time, folks!
Namaste, y’all!
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