The cold is biting.
Half of the lake is pushing with the current, the other is frozen and carving out an angled path. I'm watching it from my little nook in the living room; empty coffee cup beside me, my barefeet freezing. But rather than refill my mug or leave to pull socks over my toes - I sit and watch the water flowing and resisting.
The laptop monitor in front of me is stacked with word documents - one on top of another on top of another. I've spent the morning wading through old works and opening new documents for typing random paragraphs whenever a new thought pops into my head - everything is disjointed and awkward. Nothing is flowing.
Three new beginnings and several works in revision. All only briefly touched upon - three sentences here, a paragraph there. New punctuation and cutting and pasting on yet another. But no real forward progress. I'm the frozen half today, feeling the current slide against me and wondering where it would take me if I'd let it.
I'm hoping to have something to put here before the end of the day - unpolished as it may be.
Half of the lake is pushing with the current, the other is frozen and carving out an angled path. I'm watching it from my little nook in the living room; empty coffee cup beside me, my barefeet freezing. But rather than refill my mug or leave to pull socks over my toes - I sit and watch the water flowing and resisting.
The laptop monitor in front of me is stacked with word documents - one on top of another on top of another. I've spent the morning wading through old works and opening new documents for typing random paragraphs whenever a new thought pops into my head - everything is disjointed and awkward. Nothing is flowing.
Three new beginnings and several works in revision. All only briefly touched upon - three sentences here, a paragraph there. New punctuation and cutting and pasting on yet another. But no real forward progress. I'm the frozen half today, feeling the current slide against me and wondering where it would take me if I'd let it.
I'm hoping to have something to put here before the end of the day - unpolished as it may be.
Labels: Writing Life
6 Comments:
ohhhhh... I'm looking forward to the read. :)
Hope you are having a gorgeous day there with the boss. Maybe less no-nos?
I just bought a t-shirt for my nephew with "It's all about me!" on the front. I realise, totally the wrong thing for any child to think - but alas, it's so true. hehe. :)
CJ - That shirt says it all! I should get that for the boss's upcoming birthday!
Mella -I know it's so cold here today today. You really should put some socks on. You don't wanna get sick for xmas.
Btw, I've updated blogger says the problems been fixed. You might need to click the comment button twice though.
*shrugs*
Nice metaphor--wish I'd have said that.
With this whole computer and all the extra memory I've put in, I still have notes and scrap pieces of paper scattered about the room. Sometimes I wonder about me. :) ec
"everything is disjointed and awkward" Indeed. For me too this week. I feel like a high school boy. Love the new look of your blog.
love
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