Lately it seems more often than not I find Charles Portis hanging out beneath the mistletoe. I don't know quite what to make of it, but I can tell you this much: I've never seen anything get close enough to kiss those mandibles and come away alive!
I don't mean to sound desperate, dear reader, but how are you doing? I don't mean to hijack your cheerful outlook or attach myself like some parasite to your well deserved optimism but...well, yes. I do. That's exactly what I want to do. I want you to tell me how wonderful life is when you're not revising the first draft of a novel you once imagined to be decent yet now realize rivals all the bogs in Ireland for its hopeless quagmire.
Oh, what was I thinking, dear reader? How did I ever get taken in by the glamorous vapors of novel writing?!
My imagination, it would seem, got the best of me this time. It really pulled a fast one. I should have gotten a job wherein I labored by the sweat of my brow. An assassin, perhaps. Or a pickpocket. At least then I would have something to show for myself at the end of the day!
Revising this novel has made me question everything about my writing. I wonder why I even presume to write this blog. Who cares about a silly mantis or my penchant for stalking a certain demographic at Trader Joe's?!
Charles, I take that back. Don't listen to me right now, darling.
I'll stop here because even though I'm making light of the situation, I can tell my tone is about to get shrill. All I can say is it feels I'm wandering through a deep, dark forest these days and the birds ate all my bread crumbs.
Writing (more specifically, revising) has a very selfish way of monopolizing one's mind, of drawing you away from reality into some broken down world in desperate need of repair.
Reading is different, by the way. Reading is wonderful! Reading draws you away from reality into a shiny, magical world someone already revised the living daylights out of.
Be glad if you're reading. Some poor fool probably went mad for the sake of that book.
Be warned if you're writing.
You could be next.