I may be repeating myself here. I found this essay on my computer, and it’s mostly about my novel, which I’ve been writing about too often and will remain my obsession until I start another one. I’ve finished three book reviews and two short stories recently, found a draft of one that is a long way from being finished but I’m working on it, and two collections of short stories that I might send out. And the novel.
My best time was eight minutes and some seconds per mile (maybe more than thirty, but not much) over highway hills in the rain. I was a lot younger then, had been training for a half marathon in Seattle, and that fast run on steep hills resulted in injury.
But that’s not what we meant, is it?
We want my best time on vacation or during sex, or whatever. My best time as a writer. My best time writing or weaving or knitting or playing with my children.
Many things have happened that got in the way of blogging, but the gist is: Facebook, a minor medical issue that got complicated (not mine and mostly okay now), and developmental editing of my novel. Reading. And now NaNo.
I am told I should explain about NaNo. National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) is November. It is online, motivational (for me), free, as private or public as you want it to be, and I’ve done it before a few times. Each morning this month, I write on my laptop—the laptop I am using to write this long-overdue post—and then I post my progress on the NaNoWriMo website.
Gary waits quietly in the other room.
Continue readingI used the forecast of rain to skip my run, but it’s not raining, and now I feel guilty for still sitting up in bed, draining my second cup of too-strong coffee (the only coffee I like), and listening to Jack Driscoll in a video from January of last year. I was there. In “First, Do No Harm” from January 2023 in Seaside, Oregon, Jack reminds us: find your character on your page, care deeply, even for the flawed characters, especially for their flaws, because that’s what we all are. That story he read got me again. [I hope the link opens.] I have not heard the other two talks that are linked on the residency Bulletin. I’ll need more time to go there.
For Jack, Gary went over to campus and sat on a bench and played “Parting Glass” by the High Kings, the live version where the pipes come in [at 2:32], turned up all the way on his phone, and cried because it was for Jack and because of the pipes and because… We think Jack would like that. We’ve listened to it a few times now.
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IMPERFECT PATIENCE 