I haven’t posted here very often, I guess, but I feel like I’m talking too much.
“What is the point of anything?”
Finished the first draft of something long last week. Brief high. I left it out and wanted to touch it all day. Printed it size fourteen (aids “readibility” and “fun”). Spent one/two days leafing through it, but didn’t let myself read more than paragraphs/sentences at a time. Could barely contain myself. Wanted to read the whole thing in one go. Resisted. Looked through it once today. Only bits, but I hated everything.
“It’s too boring,” I thought.
“Seems like I’m leafing through the same scenes over and over again.”
“Might have to cut 5000-6000 words.”
“What will it look like afterwards?”
“Seems like it won’t be any good.”
Waiting a month or something. Thinking about another project but I don’t want to start yet? For some reason. Should have started 2 days ago. This weekend I’ve felt so untethered and out of it. It isn’t a good feeling. I don’t feel good when I’m not working on something.
It would be nice to have an editor. Some kind of trustworthy feedback loop. It is so hard to know anything. “Who is telling the truth?” e.g.: “Lisa loves me, she has to tell me she likes the things I’ve written. Her knowledge of me is also blinding. Need someone objective who likes the same things I like. Not afraid to put me down.”
What does that mean? Don’t know who that person would be. In Coming Soon!!! tragedy galvanised Hop Johnson and made him into a good writer. Do I need tragedy? That’s too terrible. If I’m a happy person, or reasonably happy, will my writing only be “barely adequate”, or, at best “technically okay, but seriously lacking”? Mordecai Richler says that writers who don’t leave Canada become middle-aged too quickly. Do I need to leave Canada? Am I middle-aged already? Can I call myself a writer, even hypothetically? Farley Mowat fought in a war. The Italian campaign. It was terrible. He hated it.
Unsure of too many things.
*UPDATE* Took a shower. About to go to bed. Feel pretty good. Running tomorrow.