Starting Again
It’s been a long time since I’ve been here. It feels like I’ve been moving so fast, that I don’t even know how much time has gone by. I suppose it’s a good thing that the entries are dated. From that little bit of info, it would be 27 days since I last logged in and wrote anything.
Truth be told, that’s probably the last time I wrote anything of my novel. I was stuck for the longest time. Then, in a matter of days, I wrote a chapter that I felt was the best so far, but it also meant that significant changes would have to be made to the opening. I don’t think that has me crushed. I mean, I always knew I would have to go back and rewrite those sections, and what it did to the story makes it more… compelling? It’s just now I’m stuck again, and moving at the speed I am, I can’t get my head wrapped around it. When I get the time I could be devoting to the book, I instead sit and waste my life playing Bejewelled Blitz on Facebook. Every day I feel more like a loser.
Carolyn is working so hard at school, and some of the stuff she has produced has been amazing. But it seems every day the stress of it threatens to swallow her whole. It’s hard returning to that kind of life after so long. But at the same time, I am so proud of what she has accomplished and how far she has come. If we can just get through this term and the 3 that follow it, I have a strong feeling that this is going to open some incredible doors. Which is probably why I feel the way I do. I’m watching her fulfill what seems like her destiny. It seems all I can do is stall mine. And the worst part of that is it is entirely my fault. I do have time, I could be doing something more, but I just don’t.
Imagine my disappointment that Anne Rice has a new series entitled “Songs of the Seraphim.” I have been sitting on that title for so damn long. I knew it would be good. And now I see it in print. Don’t worry Ms Rice, I know you don’t know me and that my insignificant blog would have never come to your attention. No law suit worries here… Still, disappointed. I’ll have to come up with something entirely different. Ironically, the first book in the series, entitled Angel Time, sounds pretty cool. I might actually read it.
Which brings me to the horror that if I don’t move on this story, how long will it be until someone else uses ideas that will render my story as being a knock-off. Every day I wait is each day my ideas become stale and that some existing author is going to use similar ideas. Problem being, I just don’t feel good enough to write this. I have vague notions of how I want the story to be, but I really lack the training to make it happen. I’ve looked to see if there’s any workshops in my area, but I can’t really find anything. Not that it matters, I wouldn’t have the money for it.
I lost my dad to cancer almost two months ago. God, that’s a weird thing to type. At the time, I had no idea what to say. I thought a million times about writing about it here; writing about him. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It took me nearly a week to finally cry, and I think the tears have only come once more since then. Sometimes I feel horrible, like this should be killing me every day, but then how would I take care of my family that needs me. It hurts most when something happens and I realise he’s not there to talk to. Like sitting here right now, writing this, I feel like there’s million conversations I’d like to have with him, and I can feel the tears welling behind my eyes. I’ve never been one to believe in ghosts, or visitations from beyond the grave. But a part of me continues to hope I’ll see him. And I keep hoping that when that happens he’ll have some insight into my life that I’ve failed to notice. Yup, here come the tears… I’m not going to write a eulogy here. I wouldn’t feel like anything I wrote came close to encompassing my emotions or thoughts. All I’m going to say is that I loved him and I wish he were here. I suppose that’s enough.
Shit, I don’t know where that came from. I just feel like I’m unloading a bit. I don’t know where I’m going. I feel like my wheels are spinning and I’m driving without a destination.
So many ghosts haunt me. Not the literal kind, but, well, the deeds, the thoughts, those things you hope will die with time but never do. Sometimes their weight is crushing. Sometimes I think I won’t make it. But every morning I get up and do what I can to get through the day with my sanity and family intact. Why do we sin the way we do? Are we worthy of redemption? If an angel stood before me now and said I had a purpose, and that all of this was for good reason, just what would I say to him? Thank you… probably. Just for the comfort that it all means something.
Sorry for this post. It’s all over the place, and none of those places are much fun. But I do feel better. I suppose I should come here more often. It is my space after all. Besides, it’s not like anyone even reads this stuff. But if you happen to be the one in 6 billion who does, thanks. I hope I haven’t bored you to tears.
