The past couple of weeks, since I've let the endless editing go for awhile, I feel adrift, like I have no direction. I've all but forgotten what it's like to be at the beginning of the story-telling process, to just let my mind wander until an idea leaps fully formed from my head, to not know every detail of every character in the story. It's nice, but scary.
Right now, I feel like I'm not being productive. Yes, I know that we all need to take a nap every now and again, but I have an internal barometer that says I need to accomplish something, that napping or reading is time wasted, that I'm being lazy if I spend the afternoon watching TV.
I want to just be. To not care what everyone else thinks, especially agents. Even if only for a little while, I want to forget about whether the last book is publishable and whether I should attempt to start a new one. I think I know why a lot of authors/artists take up drinking (or doing coke or whatever). My mind is constantly spinning, and I need to find a quiet place inside me and just let it go for a bit.
I am going to a St. Patty's Day party tonight, even though I'm of Scottish descent. [I may wear plaid, just for the hell of it.] There will be drinking and eating, and more drinking and eating, and much convival companionship. Maybe, just maybe, I can find that still point, even if only for an hour or two. I hope so.
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