During the holidays, my family loves to puzzle and we often gather around the kitchen table pushing pieces together into the wee hours of the morning.
As 2020 ends and the new year begins, this also describes the state of much my writing. In any other year, I would be deep in the revising stage of a particular project, but 2020 seemed to have other plans. Instead of focusing on one piece of writing, I often found my thoughts quite scattered throughout the pandemic. Like the jumbled up pieces in a puzzle box, miscellaneous ideas would appear and disappear, slipping through my fingers, leaving me to chase after them and write them down before they were gone for good. As the days and weeks added up, so too did all the little pieces of writing and I spent much of the summer moving them around into different configurations to see what would work together. Sometimes, a larger story or image would appear, others time, I’d have to move those ideas off to the side.
The result though, is that I have nothing “finished” for the first time in years – and that’s ok. I’ve got two projects that are nearly done and it feels like a massive emotional struggle to get them to that finish line, but I’ll get there. I’ve got half a dozen other ideas that might develop into bigger things, which is exciting, and I also have three things out on submission, so there’s plenty to be positive about.
What I’m reading:
Richard Sheridan’s The School For Scandal
Amanda Ripley’s The Unthinkable: Who Survives When Disaster Strikes
Groundworks’ Angel City