Home - is where I want to be / But I guess I'm already there /I come home -
she lifted up her wings /
Guess that this must be the place...
- Talking Heads, "Naive Melody"

Friday, August 7, 2009


I may be emerging from this slump. This would be a good thing, as I do not particularly enjoy being depressed. I am working from home today, so a little after five I laced up my shoes and went out for a jog. The full moon was setting, the sun not yet up, the air a crisp-feeling 60--the perfect temperature for running. I did a bit over three miles, my best distance to date, and was particularly pleased since running outdoors is slightly more challenging than the treadmill.

I saw two of the neighborhood regulars, the first being an older man with some sort of disability who, as far as I can tell, just walks (limps) around all day. I often see him when I'm leaving for work, and sometimes when I'm coming home, just walking. This morning he nodded to me as I walked by, and again I wondered what his story is. About halfway through my outward journey I passed a man with the sort of perfect physique that bespeaks a great deal of time and attention; I have seen him out running in every kind of weather over the years we have lived here. We exchanged a wave and a "Morning," and another wave when we crossed paths again on our homeward journeys. In the parking lot across from the "Dance Ranch" four young men were gathered, and a police officer was walking back to his car, presumably after speaking with them. One of the four sent some lightly mocking words my way. Kids these days, or any day, reminding me of a quote I saw long ago.
Times are bad. Children no longer obey their parents, and everyone is writing a book. -- Marcus Tullius Cicero
Everyone does seem to be writing a book, or opening a restaurant, or traveling, or producing something unique and lovely... doing things. The proper reaction to this is not to go to bed, sulk about how unfair life is, and bemoan my wallflower nature, but to see what can be done... while being realistic. I have two small children, a full-time job, and a commute that eats three hours out of my day three or four days a week on top of that. Maybe now is just not the time for major creative endeavors, and I need to stop beating myself up about that fact. Maybe I should set myself some smaller goals, to preserve forward motion against the day when I finally have something resembling free time again.

So, in this optimistic spirit, a couple of new goals. I am going to try to start doing more reading. A friend sent me this year's list of nominees for the World Fantasy Award, and I've only even heard of one of the authors; that's pretty pathetic. I will set myself the modest goal of a book a month for the remainder of the year. I'm going to try to get to the library on that frequency, too.

I'll continue with the second draft of Assassin, but I am not going to kill myself trying to finish it this year. I am not going to attempt NaNoWriMo, and I am not going to get upset about that. Once I get my rejection from TOR, I'll shelve Wizard for a while, unless I can find a writing group or something (not sure I would have time to participate, assuming I can even find a group that is not chock-full of nut cases).

Today I'm going to visit the farmer's market, get my kitchen back in order, do some stuff I get paid to do, and not worry so goddamn much.

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