Blergh and More Blergh: Notes from the Week
11.13.18: Just logging this here, as one does when one keeps a blog that tracks one's writing process: I've reached a weird, uncomfortable place with the poetry manuscript. Here's a list of my ridiculous fears/problems:
- I fear I've jinxed myself by calling this collection of poems a manuscript.
- I've written myself into a weird space with the narrative arc. I don't know where to go next.
- I'm not having as much fun writing the poems, which tells me they probably aren't good.
- Part of this is because my mind feels pretty divided. Feeling like I should be grading instead of writing really squashes creativity.
|Little Miss Kindergartner is learning to write.|
11.15.18: Feeling better. Did some whining in the above notes, got that out of my system, and then managed to write another two poems I kinda like. So. In one of my "I-don't-know-what-to-write-lemme-look-over-what-I-already-have" moods, I noticed that since September, I wrote about 9 poems in one two week period, then 6 in the next two weeks, and then 9 again, and then 6 again. In both of those 6-poem periods, I was nearing the end of a section in the MS. I haven't given much thought to what that means. But it probably indicates something, right? (Like, maybe, how I avoid grading AND writing by making random observations about my practice . . .)
11.17.18: Long Form Friday was a complete fail this week. It involved a number of false starts and having to run errands for my family (*cough* the teenager *cough*). By the time I returned home after running all over this godforsaken island, I was more or less shot. Also, I woke up this morning with a massive head cold, so the fact that I was coming down with an illness probably had something to do with my lack of motivation and focus, too.
Anyway, I'm going to focus on grading right now; it would be nice to get papers back to students this week, before the Thanksgiving holiday. I managed to get a good deal done on Wednesday of this week. Maybe if I can maintain that momentum, and get most of this crap back to the students, I'll clear up enough head space to focus on my writing. And maybe I should just acknowledge that the last one-two months of a semester are never, ever going to be especially fruitful or productive when it comes to my writing.
Double Blergh. Blergh blergh. Or something.