It’s a shade past mid-month and it needs to be said that I’m a goddamn mess.
I had a short story that I submitted for critiques through a local writing group and was so confused by the results — one very complimentary, one neutral, one hated the very paper the story was written on — that I added back in a few things I’d taken out to hit the word count limits for the critique program and shipped it off to a freelance editor. That ate a day.
I finished the last set of poem drafts for my collab. book with artist/illustrator C.D. Flamond. There went a day.
I wrote a complicated prose poem about the sea for no particular reason. Bye bye, daylight.
I’m not that far behind with my NaPoWriMo poems, but my Camp NaNoWriMo project? Man, I will be lucky if I get that and my Created revision done by July so I can move onto my Devil Rode West draft.
I’ve just lost my focus when it comes to writing longer things and the more I write poems and short stories the more I think I should be focusing on novellas and novels.
I’ve been turning to the tarot to discuss my writing problems. I feel like the cards offer a creative detour through the trash overanalysis of my usual thoughts. I keep drawing the tower when I ask about my writing. My gut response to the card is negative — I mean the fucking thing is on fire and shit is falling from it. But the more I think about it, especially in association with the other cards I frequently draw, I feel like it’s a plea to rip my normal processes apart and approach everything anew.
I’m not sure just yet how I’m going to do it, but I feel like it must be done. If for nothing else than to shake off this sense that I’m getting nothing productive done. It’s time for a change.