2.27.2011

real and down-home self inflicted emotionally fueled ordinary no-more-life-please single-serving maybe death

I had this weekend the first flutter of feeling for writing again, since the dreaded turn-down of the novel in December. I am in fact longing to work on it again, if only to reassure myself that the kind "no" was just the voice of one reader, not the truth heretofore hidden from my biased eyes. I read about the now-stars of the ya scene, those epics with brutal futuristic reality tv stadium games to the death and celebrity intergalactic hyperdeath, and long post apocalyptic marches of death...my slight spare novel of possible death, real and down-home self inflicted emotionally fueled ordinary no-more-life-please single-serving maybe death must seem terribly underblown and pedestrian. no matter. it's mine, waiting patiently for further ministrations.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

For me, a New Yorker/Parisian- it is difficult to fathom a reconciliatory peace with the travails of practicing the craft of writing from confines geographically indisposed, indifferent even, to the influence which time, in the chameleonitic bodice of seasons, holds over and above (and through) the author unto the bodice of the page, itself a physical entity; from places void of solar system cycles not so subtly winding yet predictably achieving completion; or their inherent contrasts: the boisterous tragedy of a winter nearing if carrying within the perfect stillness under its every snowfall; or the intuitive starvation for cold blasts come the summer heat.

Your blog always reminds me of a beautifully sung Cowboy Junkies line: "... this town wouldn't be so bad, if a girl could trust her instincts".

For it does seem to me, Atlantic-bound (Atlantis the cradle of mythical AND existential destruction as opposed to your Pacific west) that the "hyperdeath" you speak of must first be BORN- then cradled- from and by your very own and most motherly (writer's) instinct, "real and down-home self inflicted emotionally fueled..."

"... and death shall have no dominion". Thomas.

RW.