Well. How are ya. Yeah, I haven’t posted in a while, mainly due to the little man no longer keeping a firm sleep schedule during the weekends. And so the blogs go by the wayside while I sort that out.
Anyways. The opus is done, all one hundred thousand words plus of it. And now that I have these ladies over the finish line, I’m convinced that I have written the WORST NOVEL OF ALL TIME WHAT WAS I thinking and so on. You know what you do with those thoughts? They’re an optical illusion, exactly like those thoughts that tell you it is golden. The truth is much more quantum than that, it both is and is not crap at the same time.
So it’s done. And I am in the strange position of not liking myself at all right now, convinced as I am of my failures and my laziness. Every flaw in my day to day life seems to agree with this message, that I’m lazy, sloppy, ignorant of the impression I make and crass about my speech and my gestures. It’s not helped by a sense of elitism I encounter in my day to day life, in work, in the pool… There are people out there who are a lot better at certain things than me. But where are they better people than me? Oh, wait, I can hear a voice in my head disagreeing with me. It says that in fact, they are better people than me. And then it points to the well thumbed list of my failures in life as evidence. And then I remember that John Banville worked that metaphor with more skill, and I give it up as a bad idea.
I want to write the start again. And edit the whole thing to kingdom come. And then hide. And then stand forth and let them shine.