Things that are going through my head (in addition to the normal circulation of blood and brain matter, obviously.)
I should post something on my blog about how I will be posting less because I want to be working on my memoir about how my family and I immigrated from the Soviet Union. Damn it. Emigrated. Emigrated from, immigrated to. Shouldn’t I know this by now?
Back to the blog. I should probably call it the Third Annual I am Working on My Manuscript post, so people can feel nostalgic for the first few times I’d done it.
Why don’t I just not post anything and work on my manuscript about how I am my family emigrated from the Soviet Union and started our lives in the United States.
Wait, is it our lives or our life?
I think it’s our lives because Mama, Papa and I are three distinct and different people and we have three lives among us.
On the other hand, it may be our life, because I am writing about our joint life in the United States, the whole Immigrant Experience. And maybe the Emigrant experience.
Hey, maybe this lives vs. life business can be the subject of an I’m Right, You’re Wrong post where I argue with myself.
Yes, that’s normal and not at all what leads to institutionalization.
God, I hate the GOP.
I will work on my manuscript. I gave myself until the end of this year to finish a first draft and the year is two thirds done and I’m only one third done writing.
Wait. I think I’m one of those people who works best under pressure.
Yes, I must be.
So maybe October is too early to resume writing because it won’t be my best work. If I really work best under pressure, I should wait until mid-December and then just tear through it. Like …like some other writer who wrote in marathon stretches.
But what if it doesn’t work? I usually get the sniffles in December and need to take to my bed and watch Law & Order. By the way for years I thought that Special Victims Unit was my favorite Law & Order but now I think it’s Criminal Intent. I wonder if it’s possible to reschedule my illness until January.
I don’t know, this sounds risky. I should probably just work on the masterpiece now.
I will post something on my blog explaining that I won’t be posting as often but it’s only because I will be working on my manuscript.
Wait, manuscript or masterpiece?
How can I possibly work on it if I don’t even know what it’s called?
I need to have this room repainted.
Repainted with my blood. Maybe I should start taking blood thinners so it’ll be a pale pink color.
Is that how blood thinners work? Why would they make my blood pink? Maybe I need to take paint thinners. Or ass thinners.
Ok, after I finish my masterscript I’ll think about painting.
Unless a freshly painted room would be motivational or something.
Oh, that can’t possibly be it. That’s crazy. What am I, high on fumes already?
Ha ha, remember when I wrote a lot of my manuscript and didn’t back it up and them my laptop crashed and I lost everything. That sucked.
And you’d think that I learned my lesson, but not really.
Well sort of. I still can’t back up because I can’t figure out where the fuck to back up. I put it on one of those drives they give you at conferences but I don’t know. Then I can never find them.
Virginia Woolf is right, I need a room of my own. This writing at the kitchen table isn’t working for me.
Although it is close to the snacks.
Ok, so I will still blog, but not as often, and I will work on my manuscript every day.
Unless a lot of bloggable things happen in which case I will update on an as-needed-basis, hourly, if necessary.
One year ago ...