Windfall

[dreamer_easy]

I had an epiphany in the middle of the night, thanks to the Zen nun I left murmuring on my iPod. I've been feeling frustrated and unworthy because I haven't yet got an original SF novel published, let alone won the Hugo, Nebula, Tiptree, Ditmar, despairing love of all humanity, etc. This is doing things backwards. An apple tree isn't trying to make apples, or thinking 'Why haven't I made apples yet, all my mates are making fantastic apples, I'm never gonna make these freakin' apples'. It just makes a bunch of apples, because that's a hoot, and also because it's an apple tree. Like everything in nature, then, I shall be goalless.

Comments

[bodlon.livejournal.com]

This is super smart.

(And here is the part where I will also repeat to myself how super smart it is in spite of that little voice in the back of my head saying, 'but I wanna write Doctor Whooooooo' at me. HUMANS. What on earth is wrong with us?)

[dreamer-easy.livejournal.com]

You and me both, mate!

[bodlon.livejournal.com]

It's a sickness. I mean, come on. That part of me is all, "I'll write it on the back of cereal boxes! Street signs! Floor tile! Whatever you want!"

Instead, we are working on Hold Something tonight. And a novella. And school.

*pats crazy writer bits on the noggin*

[dreamer-easy.livejournal.com]

I can't even do it at the mo. I try to look at the words and my brain just goes and hides in a corner. Days after the heatwave ended I'm still befok. (Such a useful word, meaning "fucked in the head" but also suggesting "befogged".)

[bodlon.livejournal.com]

Your continent terrifies me. It is under water and on fire all at once, and the heat indices give me palpitations just reading about them.

I'll just be here, safely concealed under a blanket of crunchy snow.