top of page

September 20

It's been almost a year since last I posted here. Typical.

Every time I attempt any sort of blog, it's only a matter of months (usually weeks) until it falls.

With this sort of noncommital attitude, I don't know how I wrote a book. Honestly, I don't. Now, facing down the Word Doc of my second attempt at a novel, I am in disbelief of the fact that I've already written one.

It's like — I know the mechanics of how this is done. I know what I'm supposed to be doing. But this time, I lack the "well, even if this fails, at least I've written a book" mentality that propelled me through the first. Although that mindset can set you on some wonderful paths, I wonder how far it can actually take you.

About 10 years ago, when I was set loose into adulthood, I wanted only to live and live and live — with no regard for the sort of life that I was living. Convinced that the measure of a life was its concentration, I aimed to live years in what other people measured as weeks. (Amphetamines tended to help with that.)

But eventually, appetites sate or change. And what I used to crave no longer satisfies me.

Just as Life Itself doesn't seem to be enough of a guiding life principle anymore, Creativity doesn't seem enough of a reason to create these days.

I'm questioning stories, character, morals. And my writing process is going through some pretty intense scrutiny, too.*

This way of being has made me boring at parties. I will say that much. I tend to wander away from the dance floor before midnight and end up in a Chinese restaurant, chatting with waiters while I wait for dumplings that I'll eat in bed. I don't miss the nights of staying out until 8 a.m. But I am eager to see what will replace them. These nights of takeout and writer's block are liminal. That much I know.

The current moment feels like the existential equivalent of not a girl, not yet a woman. And in that spirit (and in the style of Instagram photo dumps), here's what's been, uh, floating around my mind as summer turns...

"do not be afraid to disappear"

"cynicism isn't wisdom, it's a lazy way to say that you've been hurt"

*it's not a blog post without a dad joke, right?


bottom of page