I have a theory
Apr. 9th, 2008 02:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceOnce again, I cannot settle to serious working: everything is either ram-jam blocked tight, or so wafty and vague it has no direction and hence nowhere to go.
Granted, I am waiting for editorial response to a major book, which matters; and to a minor book, which also matters. A lack of focus is fair enough. I think that's what it is, though: it's because there are half a dozen other things I could attend to meanwhile, and none of them has any sense of priority.
In order, because today is a day for making lists, I have:
an SF novella to rewrite, which may actually mean "write again";
two ghost stories to write, one just begun and the other not even imagined;
a short SF story to edit and make good;
the first Alexandria story - which may yet turn into a novella - to write;
peripheral materials for Dracula to research and write up;
another novella to finish;
and - that ever-popular favourite! - taxes.
If I only had a sense of order, no doubt I could stride manfully through all these tasks. In order. But I have none, and neither do they. So I poke, a little at one and a little at another, and we all remain unenthused by my poking.
Maybe I should just do the taxes? That way, I'd be so miserable, any work would be welcome...
Also, I came home this afternoon with a hailstone in my ear.
Granted, I am waiting for editorial response to a major book, which matters; and to a minor book, which also matters. A lack of focus is fair enough. I think that's what it is, though: it's because there are half a dozen other things I could attend to meanwhile, and none of them has any sense of priority.
In order, because today is a day for making lists, I have:
an SF novella to rewrite, which may actually mean "write again";
two ghost stories to write, one just begun and the other not even imagined;
a short SF story to edit and make good;
the first Alexandria story - which may yet turn into a novella - to write;
peripheral materials for Dracula to research and write up;
another novella to finish;
and - that ever-popular favourite! - taxes.
If I only had a sense of order, no doubt I could stride manfully through all these tasks. In order. But I have none, and neither do they. So I poke, a little at one and a little at another, and we all remain unenthused by my poking.
Maybe I should just do the taxes? That way, I'd be so miserable, any work would be welcome...
Also, I came home this afternoon with a hailstone in my ear.