Man, what a ridiculously busy Monday.
I'm leaving for CES tomorrow (I'll be trapped in Vegas until Thursday afternoon for InDigital) so I pretty much lose three days that I'd normally spend writing to make my deadlines this week.
Writers: have you ever crammed three days of work into one? Some people really thrive under that pressure, but I'm totally not one of them. I just feel panicked and overwhelmed, and have a real hard time focusing and feeling good about what I deliver. However, I'm also really good at just doing it because it has to be done, so I was probably as efficient today as I've ever been, (and, truth be told, I made stuff that totally doesn't suck) but I'm just so wound up and blown out, the only way to come down is . . . by writing for my blog (this time accompanied by a well-deserved Murphy's Stout, natch.)
I don't want to give too much away, but this week's Geek in Review is something that I think will be enjoyed by a lot of people, and as a bonus requires not as much effort by me as usual to put together (I had no idea how hard it was going to be to create an entirely new column every week out of whole cloth when I accepted that gig, goddammit is it hard.)
To prepare it, I had to get into my Ubuntu machine, which has spent much of the last six months or so turned off in favor of my Powerbook, because I can take it outside when the weather permits (like it did today; holy shit it was like late spring, thanks to a huge storm coming into town later this week, pushing 85 degree warmth ahead of it.)
I turned it on, sat down, and loaded a bunch of stuff into OpenOffice.org, so I could save it as .rtfs to send to and edit on my Powerbook. While I sat there, looking at this stuff in OOo, I thought a lot about all the hours I spent at that desk, listening to Oingo Boingo, while I worked on Just A Geek and Dancing Barefoot, and how much fun that was (er, up to a point that I don't need to belabor any more.) I'm glad I didn't know how much work it would be to write and publish two books on my own (which was my plan when I started) and I'm really glad that I didn't know enough to be afraid of failure. I just did it because it seemed like a challenge that I could meet. I am amazed at how much faith I had in myself back then and I am more grateful than I can ever express that I had so much support from people who read my blog, other authors, independent book stores, and of course my family. Without that support, I would have known how risky the whole thing was, and I would probably be struggling to get onto some humiliating reality TV show right now.
While I sat there today and looked at that stuff, I remembered how much fun it was, how satisfying it was, how totally rewarding it was to write those stories, and share them with . . . well, probably a lot of you who are reading this right now, which makes this as good a time as any to say thank you again. Thank you =]
(Yeah, I used a totally lame emoticon, so what? Wanna fight about it?)
Anyway, this experience today, coupled with how satisfying it was to put together the 2006 Best of WWdN: in Exile post, and how hard I had to work today to hit some deadlines, has inspired me. I'm going to put serious effort into putting out another Dancing Barefoot style collection, or at least another limited-edition chapbook like More Than This, before Summer. In fact, with some serious commitment I can probably even finish it before Winter is over, and release it in Spring.
My friend Shane wrote something in his blog today that resonated with me:
There was a deeper part of me mourning both the realization that living life as a struggling actor in Los Angeles no longer satisfied me, and also the fact that I was unable yet to admit that to myself. That's not to say that I don't still enjoy performing onstage or in front of a camera. It's just that whatever need there used to be to prove to everyone that I was worthy of that stage or screen time seems to have waned. In the past year, I have let go of the bitterness. I have not compromised my dreams; I have discovered new ones.I don't know how wise I am, but in a lot of ways (that I'm just too wiped out to detail at the moment) I know exactly what Shane meant. In fact, I can honestly say that I grok it in every sense of the word. Though I still enjoy getting in front of an audience to perform, I have discovered that what I truly love to do is write. I guess it's not a big surprise, and it's no big news to say it, but it means something for me to say it outloud, for myself: I am a writer. (Ooh! Pretentious italics! Look at me go!)
[. . .]
My goals have shifted, I suppose. I once yearned for the spotlight and the mythical fame (and scrutiny), but as I get older (and perhaps wiser), I long only for happiness and satisfaction, and a creative outlet that provides both of those things.
Any way, what do writers do? They write.
Er, except for me, right now. Right now, I think I'll have a(nother) Murphys, maybe see if I can finally five star a song or two on hard on Guitar Hero II, and then pack up my stuff for three days in Vegas before hitting the sack before midnight. (Yeah, right.)
But when I get back, I'll be spending what little spare time I have at that Ubuntu machine, working in OpenOffice.org on the next book, whatever it may be (and I have a pretty good idea what it is) Monolith Press is getting lonely, and this writer needs to write.
