To the few of you who come here regularly…
So, yes, things were getting a little too serious around here. For me, at least. The serious stuff was making my head bog down, and when that happens it’s time to go grab for the light smile.
After all, there are a few of you now. I mean, an audience, who’s decided to follow for a little while for some reason. Since there’s not a lot of consistency in the pattern of the posts, whatever’s piqued your interest might not reappear for a while on the lazy susan of my mental storehouse. I want to say I’m sorry for that, but I can’t be. After all, this is a kind of live notebook.
I’m not counting the folks who come every day to check out my post on the last paragraph of The Dead. That’s a bad joke on students. The number of visits from Google to that post have jumped up measurably with the school year winding down. It’s final paper time, and god help whatever poor soul decides to excerpt that self-indulgent post into their honors English paper. [I don’t think they teach Joyce in the regular English track in most high schools.]
I do wonder about you all, now and again. Not that there’s a lot of you. Just a handful, really. Some of you might be writers, and I’ve got a lot of respect for you. The work of writing is hard.
That’s drifting away from my smiley mood. I’ll have to share my personality inventory from the positive psychology folks here. It helps to explain why I keep drifting into the ice shoals of big ideas with the little dinghy of my knowledge. Just can’t help it.
My serious writing project, which I dare not name!, is going along slowly, slowly, slowly.
You can blink your eyes and see the whole thing laid out in front of you — the characters, the path, the impressions, the ah-ha’s — and then when you get writing it’s like being a ditch digger with a calcium deficiency. You cramp up after a couple of shovels.