In Which Your Hostess Waxes Slightly Emo

Last week was a long week for me. Very long, and filled with last minute scrambling. Also, lots of finger-pointing, as though I haven’t been saying You need this. No, more than that. Really. for the last three months at least – more like the last six or eight. There were some genuine moments of appreciation and sighs of relief when I delivered good news, but right now I’m having a hard time concentrating on those over some of the moments of nastiness.

I think it’s Generic Summer Burnout – seems like I always spend a few days wishing I was elsewhere at this time of year, and again as the new year starts. Neither do I help myself much by looking at neat places that are offering jobs I think I’d like to try – a bookstore in Cambridge offering full-time, a customer service/GM type position at Turbine for one of their MMOs (granted, WoW is the only MMO I play, but I bet I could do the job). But right now, I’m unwilling to take a pay cut and I’d be forfeiting any potential bonuses that might come from the last months of hell.

And damn it, I’m going to get more satisfaction out of this nightmare than just the gnashing of fangirl teeth (although that is at least a small balm, by itself.)

I had a pretty good weekend, at least. Started on Housework: The Decluttering and got my kitchen and study looking nice, plus a good chunk of laundry put away. I also went through a pile of comic books, separated them out by series, then put them in order. Now I can go through and see what numbers are missing (I’m sure there was a cat-related accident that made me have to throw some away a while back.) Though, I’m also fairly certain there’s at least another stack or two of comics hidden away somewhere – I found big gaps across several series, all the same month’s issues.

I need to buy longboxes to store them in. At least one, maybe two. Not that I have any idea where to put them…

It’s been a kind of listless week for writing so far, too. Several things I want to start, or continue, or finish, and yet whenever I open up their gdocs, I find myself just staring at the screen. I’ve partly overwhelmed myself, so I’m not quite sure where to start, or which one is shouting at me the loudest. Yesterday I thought it would be smart to simply go in chronological order. That didn’t go so well, either.

I’m feeling generally blah about my writing right now, too, which is never useful. On the one hand, as so many people have said whenever I bemoan how many titles on the bestseller lists are junk right now: if that kind of stuff can not only get published, but also succeed, it should be a comfort knowing that I can do better. But I’m frustrated by it and I think it’s getting under my skin enough that it’s been hard to write the last couple of days. Silly, I know, but there it is. What should be inspiring me to produce something better is instead making me look at my own stuff and wonder if I’m actually capable of doing better. It’s intimidating.

So, for the moment, while I could wait for the Muse to come kick me in the ass, she seems to have gone off on a bit of a jaunt. I’ll muddle through without her for a bit, pick something and stick to it and see what I can crank out that’s worth keeping in the meantime.

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2 Responses to In Which Your Hostess Waxes Slightly Emo

  1. Itanya Blade says:


    /cast write moar

  2. August finds most of feeling close to this. Just take a day or two and deep breathe.

    It will be OK.

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