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I am taken with a sort of semi-manic fatigue lately. The barrage of activities, classes, committees, and gatherings into which I’ve jumped the past couple years--esp. the past six months--might not daunt your average overachiever much, but I’m a lifelong underachiever recently converted. I’m starting to suspect my low energy level can’t handle this indefinitely, and/or that I’ve still not established sustainable methods of time management. The upside is that I barely have time to dwell on anxiety, my confidence has increased exponentially, and I perceive myself as an active and contributing member of my community rather than an unworthy alien. Yet more and more, I get some sense I’ll always be alien in some way, not a bad way per se, but not always in an easy way.
Things have been going somewhat decently on the writing front despite the fact (or, knowing how these things go, perhaps because of the fact) that I really have other things I should be attending to with greater devotion right now. Attempting drabble challenges since September has proven amusing and instructive. Brevity is not my strong suite, and being forced to count and chop words shows me that I can in fact convey a lot with a little if I really put my mind to it. I think I’ll always, left to my own devices, be annoyingly detailed and long-winded, but it’s good to know I can do otherwise under constraint.
I’ve been having more fun with the Draugluin story as I get more accustomed to his narrative voice. Draugluin doesn’t tend to use vocab words like I do, which at first made me rather uncomfortable trying to get a handle on his voice. Then I found he makes use of metaphor quite often where another narrator might have just used a barrage of four-syllable words to literally describe the situation. Once I realized that I can convey the character’s mind by way of his likening things to the natural world with which he has a deep affinity, he started to make more sense to me.
Interestingly, the Draugluin story is perhaps about to come to a grinding halt at the same chronological spot as the epic thingy that started this whole Tolkienverse fixation for me came grinding to a halt maybe a couple months ago. Apparently I don’t know what to do about the war of the Valar upon Melkor in general. The more interesting aspect of this (to me) is that the two narratives interrelate, and I’ve been editing both of them at this shortly-before-the-war spot for the past couple days. The one is starting to give me ideas for the other. So maybe in that manner, the war will eventually hash itself out, with two several quarters out of which inspiration for the both of them might arise simultaneously. This really is not going to work out in the favor of at least one character, who in the first thingy was going to remain basically unscathed, but whom the Draugluin thingy gives me reasonable grounds mess with. That in in turn must necessarily influence character development in the other story of which that individual is a part. I do believe I’m wandering into a literary hall of mirrors. =D
I also have this idea which graced me maybe a couple months back that I really want to start, but I don’t want to be working on ten billion things at once because then my brain will explode. I somehow developed an unenviable interest in the origins and history of Tom Bombadil. I have concluded that he needs to be the protagonist of a rather horrifying and sacrilegious satire, and I am the person for this task, when the time is had.
Why do I get the feeling my winter break is going to consist of a lot of writing, and a lot of reading metric verse aloud in my lair?
Things have been going somewhat decently on the writing front despite the fact (or, knowing how these things go, perhaps because of the fact) that I really have other things I should be attending to with greater devotion right now. Attempting drabble challenges since September has proven amusing and instructive. Brevity is not my strong suite, and being forced to count and chop words shows me that I can in fact convey a lot with a little if I really put my mind to it. I think I’ll always, left to my own devices, be annoyingly detailed and long-winded, but it’s good to know I can do otherwise under constraint.
I’ve been having more fun with the Draugluin story as I get more accustomed to his narrative voice. Draugluin doesn’t tend to use vocab words like I do, which at first made me rather uncomfortable trying to get a handle on his voice. Then I found he makes use of metaphor quite often where another narrator might have just used a barrage of four-syllable words to literally describe the situation. Once I realized that I can convey the character’s mind by way of his likening things to the natural world with which he has a deep affinity, he started to make more sense to me.
Interestingly, the Draugluin story is perhaps about to come to a grinding halt at the same chronological spot as the epic thingy that started this whole Tolkienverse fixation for me came grinding to a halt maybe a couple months ago. Apparently I don’t know what to do about the war of the Valar upon Melkor in general. The more interesting aspect of this (to me) is that the two narratives interrelate, and I’ve been editing both of them at this shortly-before-the-war spot for the past couple days. The one is starting to give me ideas for the other. So maybe in that manner, the war will eventually hash itself out, with two several quarters out of which inspiration for the both of them might arise simultaneously. This really is not going to work out in the favor of at least one character, who in the first thingy was going to remain basically unscathed, but whom the Draugluin thingy gives me reasonable grounds mess with. That in in turn must necessarily influence character development in the other story of which that individual is a part. I do believe I’m wandering into a literary hall of mirrors. =D
I also have this idea which graced me maybe a couple months back that I really want to start, but I don’t want to be working on ten billion things at once because then my brain will explode. I somehow developed an unenviable interest in the origins and history of Tom Bombadil. I have concluded that he needs to be the protagonist of a rather horrifying and sacrilegious satire, and I am the person for this task, when the time is had.
Why do I get the feeling my winter break is going to consist of a lot of writing, and a lot of reading metric verse aloud in my lair?