11 October 2017 World on Fire
(I started this post on January 31st, and never posted it…)
The last time I updated my website, I had a new story go live…on election day. I loved the story, and it was getting published at a journal I’d submitted to many times before (unsuccessfully), and I was disappointed it would appear on such a pivotal day. I got up in the morning, took my girls to vote, took a selfie, got donuts, and went home.
That night, I cried myself to sleep in shock.
Months passed. Things seemed to be getting worse. More ugliness and awfulness from our president-elect, more uncertainty and scandal. It seemed like we had time to change things. Like this was a little scare.
But here we are, and it’s been a waking nightmare every day. I know for many of us it’s been hard to write. It’s hard enough just to live. I have been trying to finish my first novel and throwing myself into the many wonderful things Split Lip has been able to put out into the world. I have been resisting, and one way I’ve been resisting as of late is to continue working and writing and editing. Even when my anxiety is overwhelming, I try to sit down almost daily and do something writing-related (even if it’s just reading one small thing).
This weekend, I am getting away to (hopefully, really, truly) finish another (last?) round of revisions on my book.
On November 5th, I am teaching a 2 hour Sunday workshop at Big Blue Marble Books called The Shape of a Story, and it’s all about playing with form, and I hope it will genuinely be a time to play and think about different ways to put stories down on the page. I am still trying to fill up the class, so if you’re in the Philly area, I’d love to have you (or love to have you share with a friend who might be interested).
I haven’t had anything to update here for so long. No publications, no exciting news, no finished MS (even though my goal was January 1). I have been feeling like a failure a lot of the time. I have been lucky to have people in my life who remind me that I’m not, but it’s easy to feel bombarded by messages that what you are doing doesn’t matter, that who you are doesn’t matter. So much of this national unease under our new president feels like erasure: of humans. of progress. of hope. of love. of light.
It’s just made me more determined to see and to love and to be a person who creates. We are the ones who illuminate, who repair, who make the world new.
So don’t give up and I won’t either.