For the first time in a while, I find myself with time to write during the day time – time when I would normally have been at a paid job, getting work done for others. I plan to share with you my writing process and some of the writing I’m producing. The book that had been most pressing for me was Pucker, the first in a trilogy of novels for middle school to high school students.
Lo and behold, another body of work began popping out – a book of essays – whose working title is Nice/Nasty: Rants, Raves and Observations and Color, Power & Other Stuff. (My mother used to call me “nice/nasty” and it seems an appropriate title.)
Whenever I get angry, agitated, upset or thoughtful, I write my feelings down. Before I knew it, I had twenty of these rant/rave essays written. These seem to be most pressing on me now. Ideas, phrases, feelings are colliding in my mind – competing for attention.
On Saturday, I found myself dawdling instead of getting ready to go out and attend an event at my old job. That got me to thinking about how detached I have come to feel, in one short month, toward the place I used to work, the role I used to play, the events I use to produce and manage. I realized that I could easily never go back there. I decided to go to the computer and put down my feelings and examine why I find it so easy to be as fully distanced from something and someone as I used to be fully involved.
This work in progress is
Lo and behold, another body of work began popping out – a book of essays – whose working title is Nice/Nasty: Rants, Raves and Observations and Color, Power & Other Stuff. (My mother used to call me “nice/nasty” and it seems an appropriate title.)
Whenever I get angry, agitated, upset or thoughtful, I write my feelings down. Before I knew it, I had twenty of these rant/rave essays written. These seem to be most pressing on me now. Ideas, phrases, feelings are colliding in my mind – competing for attention.
On Saturday, I found myself dawdling instead of getting ready to go out and attend an event at my old job. That got me to thinking about how detached I have come to feel, in one short month, toward the place I used to work, the role I used to play, the events I use to produce and manage. I realized that I could easily never go back there. I decided to go to the computer and put down my feelings and examine why I find it so easy to be as fully distanced from something and someone as I used to be fully involved.
This work in progress is