New Friends, Anxiety Relief, Creativity Fail and Inspiration Desperation
Coherence be damned!
This is gonna be a weird post. I have so many random things going on in my head. I feel like these are the most uninteresting posts to read where someone writes about several things…but unfortunately for you, I’ve got nothing else that’s inspiring me at the moment that would make a coherent, specific blog post. So you’re stuck with my rambling mess. You know you like it. (The audacity)
New Friends and Multiple Choice
So..I have a new friend. (Gasp!) She’s pretty cool. Her name is Evie and she just started a blog here (Live Blonde and Prosper, Bitches!), with a little help from her friends (namely me, props and back pats are allowable, I take credit where credit is not due). I really think you should check her out because she is wise beyond her years and she’s done a lot of painful soul searching to finally come to a place where she is happy with herself. And let me tell you, it’s hard to do. I’m still failing because:
A. I don’t have the patience to change myself for the better
B. I’m stubborn about being a negative complaining unhappy wallowing in depression sarcastic girl
C. I’m too lazy.
D. I won’t let me
E. All of the above.
If you guessed E. All of the above, you win a prize. (Did you fill out your scantron sheet?). The check is in the mail.
So Evie is very cool. She’s the model for my latest book cover and was introduced to me by my good friend/photographer/editor. We had an amazing time at the shoot and learned very quickly that we’re both…crazy awesome. Or just crazy. So cheers to new friends who share your brand of dysfunction. It’s pretty damn awesome to talk and just laugh and laugh and laugh at each other and yourself. It’s the BEST.
Anxiety Relief (Getting High on Normal Means I’ll Do ANYTHING…ANYTHING!!)
As far as anxiety relief…I’m doing pretty good, I gotta say. I’ve been on the ole meds for a few months now and I’m settling in quite nicely. This past weekend I did a whole bunch of stuff and went to a bunch of places that normally I’d just not go to because I’d feel anxious. It was freaking awesome and FUN. I was telling a friend of mine (another one, who is also crazy awesome like me, emphasis on crazy) that it’s like I’m addicted to feeling like a normal person. I want to do everything I can to get to that place!
You know how you’re like normal all the time and you go places without fear or anxiety and how you do social stuff without feeling afraid? Yeah..I want that. Like all the time!! I’m drunk on normal!!! Shoot me up! I’m a glutton for it!! And yes, I want to dash anxiety into a million pieces. But all is not…rainbows and butterflies because…
Creativity Killer (MURDERER!!! CALL THE POLICE!! REDRUM!!!)
My meds are killing my creativity. Don’t get me wrong…I can still be creative if I force it. I just don’t WANT to be creative. The desire isn’t there, or it’s not nearly as strong. Or it comes at the wrong times when I can’t take advantage of it. Like when I’m driving in the car I get all kinds of sweet ideas, but then later when I can actually write I just don’t wanna. I don’t wanna! I wanna take a nap!! Hrmph. It’s like the passion is gone! GONE!! Our marriage is going to fall apart! WOE IS ME!!
So I am suffering from Inspiration Desperation. I want to want to be creative. I want to want to write. But as I stated, in a whiny voice, I don’t wanna. So…I’m trying to force the issue. I’m desperate to do what’s good for me. Forcing is never wrong, right? Wrong/Right? Haha.
Victoria Sawyer, MFA (Mz. Stuffy-Pants with the MFA After Her Name)
And in that vein, I am considering a grad degree, an MFA in Fiction. Sounds fancy, a Master’s in Fine Art? Yup, it does. It’ll have to be part time, but I think I’d really really enjoy it. Although I’m not sure if it will help me make more cash. But it would force my hand, it would force me to write and read and talk with other writers and be immersed up to the neck in paper and books and pens and words. It would be like Christmas…for writers or for office supply enthusiasts, of which I am self-proclaimed to be both. (I really like journals. I collect them and never fill them, just for the sheer JOY of it. Stop judging me!)
I’m talking with someone tomorrow about the program and sitting in on a class. I’m also going to try to force myself to open my WIP today and actually write something. Please, Victoria, I’m begging you, just open the file! I’m also hoping to learn more about the short story. I don’t write many (or any) true short stories and need to learn more about the form. I’ve been reading some Flannery O’Connor, among others. (Can we all just admit right now, that all the writers before us stole all the good ideas and if we were to use something that’s a variation of their work we’d be called out on it and called uncreative, stealing bastards?? Not FAIR! There are no NEW ideas under the sun. That shit has been done before!! Boo!!)
And I Blogged!
And with that, I leave you. Abruptly. With no ending, no summing up, no coda.
Sum that random shit up yourself! If you can! I dare you!!
And I’m out!! I blogged!
I loved the ‘I blogged!’ bit.
Definitely feeling ya there! Except . . . I haven’t.
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