Here is My Bellybutton

Ugh, people. Sorry it’s been so crappy around here. The truth is that I’m lately feeling like it’s more interesting to listen than it is to talk, which makes for difficult blogging. It’s like, I wish I could read comment threads full of you guys without having to start them by saying something worth commenting on. I’m not down about it or anything. I also like listening. I’m just saying, being in a listening and reading mood is hard on a person’s writing. You can’t breathe in and out at the same time.

I’ve also not worked out a good system for writing when the Butcher is here, which means I’m feeling a little constipated in that regard. And, you know, it’s kind of weird. I went so long with having Project X to sweat over and then the Think Progress stuff and The Hooded Utilitarian that to have everything just be basically over all at once… well, it means I have to find a way to pick back up the work I most want to be focused on.

On the other hand, I got some good feedback on one of my stories, so, if I had some time to work on it, I totally could. And I think I’ve figured out the problem with another story. So, if I had some time to work on it, I totally could.

I’m hoping I can do this summer what I did last summer and take Fridays off. That would give me a good stretch of alone time I could count on. And I would love to go spend some more time in the garden at Traveller’s Rest.

I’m also secretly dreaming of a way to get into Glen Leven.

So, that’s me. Mostly listening and dreaming. The writing will come around again.

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2 thoughts on “Here is My Bellybutton

  1. I have a hard time writing with family members around too. I go to work every day, where my job is to write, but the writing I do for work is both news and newsy. I’d like to do something a little different, but when anyone is home, I can’t get started because I know I’ll get interrupted, and frankly I want to lash out at those who interrupt. Sometimes, its just hard to write at home because of other projects whispering to me while I’m there–like the garden or the laundry. Someday, I’d like to be in a position that I could have a studio close to home, but not at home, where I could escape to just to write. I wonder what it would take to make that happen?

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