Media prophecies! Brutal yet tender intersections of life and art! Grief! Explorations of fractured long-term relationships!
And some laughs along the way.
These are the books that I enjoyed enough to finish in the last month:
Continue reading Questionable Cheese, Banjoy, and Velvet-Gloved Punches in the Solar Plexus
“How’s the writing going?”
Let me put it this way:
I took a perfect breath this morning.
Slow. Plump. Ripe.
Gorgeous.
Then I had to let it go.
And the next one wasn’t the same.
Which is to say, about a week ago I finished something like a draft. Now I’m reading it.
What is it, this thing that barely resembles a draft, even?
A Half Draft? It’s not quite a story. It’s a collection of thoughts with occasional B-stories popping up only to be smothered by a plot that wandered in from elsewhere. And in some places, it was the exact opposite.
A Skeleton Draft? It’s got good bones, but no body.
A WTF Draft (self-explanatory)
A Whatever-the-Word-Is-for-the-Mess-Left-After-a-Long-Planned-Playdate Draft?
The Loogie Draft? I needed to hock up the phlegmy remnants (ew) of the last novel. A productive cough, if you will. Some things I will keep (unlike anything I’ve ever expectorated). Most I will not. They’ve outstayed their welcome.
Perhaps it’s kinder to refer to it as the Rebound Draft. Ok. Just ignore “Loogie Draft.” Go with Rebound Draft.
It shouldn’t matter, ultimately, what we call the thing. But it does matter to me because naming imbues a sense. Where am I? Am I lost? (YES! AND THAT’S OK!) Can I see the destination for this one?
MAYBE!
There’s a marked wobbliness after the Half-Skeleton Post-Playdate Loogie-Free WTF Rebound Drafts. Especially after thinking the last book was going to be THE ONE.
But my husband was my rebound guy. That’s working out pretty well. All wobbliness there is welcome.
I am going to have to make significant changes. Big, sweeping, panoramic changes now that I understand what I want to say and the story that is screaming to be told.
So the next few weeks are for re-outlining, reworking beats, and writing other beats for the first time, crafting the characters who need to be in the story now, and removing characters who no longer do. (Sorry, imaginary people. Wish you were here.)
It doesn’t feel like writing, but it is. Or something like it.
And that’s my process. Slow, ugly, thorny, and chock full of doubt. And ever forward.
Which is to say, that about a week ago I finished something like a draft.
And now comes the rest.
Deep breaths.
Starting is arguably the hardest part of anything, especially writing, where the beginning has to hook and promise and reveal enough ankle. Sometimes the Muppets might even show up.
I was going to start this Month in Review talking about how the cicadas are mercifully almost gone. (Just in time, too, because one flew into my face and then I had to consider taking a flamethrowing to my own puss.) Then I was going to wax not-exactly-poetic about the stench of them rotting by the trillions. If you want more information, check this out. However, if you want to avoid yet another closeup photo of the critters, the big take-away is “As microbes break down and digest the cicada carcasses, ammonia and volatile organic compounds are released…Ammonia has a strong odor, as do some VOCs containing nitrogen and phosphorus — which the bodies of periodical cicadas are rich in.”
There were a lot of places in that quote where I wanted to set fire to my face again.
The whole cicadapocalypse/decomposition was going to be some sort of averagely-expressed metaphor about June.
But it just made me want to open a window, and that’s tricky these days.
Since I was clearly on an off-gassing thematic thread, I considered opening with commentary about politics and world affairs. Each try degenerated into either something like a subtweet or a pitch for some sort of Toxic Positivity MLM.
That ain’t me, kid.
Not that I don’t believe in ripping myself open and spilling all the blood/tea, but “think good thoughts” isn’t my brand. I’m not unrelievedly sweet nor optimistic. I’m hilarious and cynical and misanthropic and ALSO a little optimistic. That’s hard to capture.
(Also, I still write “80085” on my calculator and think it’s hilarious high art.)
(Also, I have a calculator.)
(Also, are we still using “subtweeting”? I’d ask my kids but they are still mad at me for randomly throwing “skibidi toilet” into some otherwise Quality Parenting Moments.™)
But yesterday on my social media, I wrote “I wish you all the wonderful communities of weirdos you need. If you lack one (or enough), I will enthusiastically be a charter member of yours.”
So that is also how I choose to start this wrap-up of June and the second half of the year. I will be here in a completely official capacity as part of your Weirdo Community. We don’t take a lot of selfies and there is always pastry.
Ooh, look: Weirdo! Muppet!
(i.e. things I enjoyed that you may also enjoy or possibly not if you are feeling contrarian and cross.)
So I might not find the right way to start these months in review, but ending in cake is always the way. As Vincent said in the above link, my mind is driven towards these things with an irresistible momentum.
So, tell me about your favorite library. Or your favorite cake. Or your favorite weirdo community.
Jackie Pick 