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Been reading my space-opera novels for a few weeks—down to the last of the four volumes—and if the plot sags a bit, I'm usually aware at some point that my attention has wandered to the subject of… food. Then it's what to have for Dinch & how much time is needed & does it require anything specific at the store—a piece of meat, some greens—or have I the right recipe.
Today I'm not into that because food is leftovers—Indian—so I'm off the hook. Also wondering what book to launch into next; what series I might netflick or amazone that is actually worth watching even though any scene with a meal will trigger desire for a ham sandwich.
Since anyone who reads this magazine has to know that it is a monthly, it follows that the writers begin writing early, perhaps as soon as the last submission is in—causes the process of creation to go in fits & starts. Personally, as soon as I get hold of an idea, I inaugurate my document & save it. Sometimes it could be a couple of weeks before I get back & then when I revisit it—because the deadline is approaching or I suddenly have a craving to write—I've lost track of the original idea. Like as not the original paragraph/notes/jottings will lead onwards…or they might decide to go completely mobius on me. Not a bad thing per se & this scenario is not a lock by any means. Many times over the last decade & more, I've sat down in the afternoon of the deadline, PST, & knocked out something in a couple of hours, let it rest overnight (one more day is okay—thank you Arthur—& I always catch something that needs editing) & so, the 'hit send' relief is once again at hand.
This month is almost more than I can bear: I have ants crawling on me as I write. I have not been able to look at the news, except that I peek maybe, or simply refuse & go dry for as long as I can. Talking certainly helps. Cooking has pretty much saved my ass, I will admit. Acquiring another kitchen tool involves research & more recipe hunting—that I can do. I'm not really being specific in the details here, because I'm feeling as though anything I might write will not do justice. I don't even want to use Nouns.
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One ray of light (besides grandson, of course) has been that my chorus will do some Bach (yay) & this will start very soon. Again I say 'yay'; there is no way that is bringin' me down. I might even score a li'l solo. Or not, doesn't matter. Another thing that doesn't matter: they're doing yet another production of Doubt, at the same theater where I auditioned for Osage County & I'm resolutely staring that one in the face, saying something like 'many hours of prep & driving & no music? I don't think so.' & that would of course mean that I had in fact gotten cast.
I'm staring that one down, too.
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