In my last post I alluded to that dreaded ‘writer’s block’ without admitted it as such. Despite having strong feelings about my characters, I wasn’t happy with the how the story was unfolding. It seemed to me that it was more like a report than it was a living entity. It was easy for me to avoid working on it, to find other things to do in the mornings — when I’ve enjoyed several hours of writing daily — and simply quit on what I’d started. There was a time just a week or so ago when I called up my novella and added an insightful character to interpret my protagonists account of his life. I began to like the story . . . but my energy level fizzled and I let it go once more.
This morning I forced myself to go back to page one and begin polishing the narrative. I haven’t had to do that before but it seemed to work. In places I had to rewrite large tracts, in others just simple modifications sufficed. Whatever, I was back . . . three hours raced by. (That’s about my max even in good-writing times) and I resolved to pick up where I left off tomorrow.
I think there is another explanation for my loss of interest, energy, or discipling . . . I’ll call it ‘homesickness’ — a malady that I go through every winter in Florida. As nice as I have it down here, it is a disconnect with the life I’ve enjoyed back home. I left dear friends behind when I flew down here back in December. Friends who were seriously ill with cancer or with suffering a serious stroke. Then my brother, John, informed me that he was a ‘short-timer’ as his cancer had spread from the prostate to the bones of his spine and ribs and was going rapidly through his body. A painful way to go. It wasn’t just John, but last week I learned that my friend Al DeLaPointe had died. Al and I and our families go back to my first years in Hibbing. And then there is Ed Beckers who has been suffering with dementia for several months. Ed was my ‘best friend’ for most of my adult life and I don’t think he has much time left either. I could name others as well.
It’s hard for me to be down here when so much of what’s really important in my life is up there. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention my significant other. I think my nightly conversations with Gail are the only connection that I have . . . but, it’s a good connection. This week we’ve shared the extremes of weather conditions, folks in Hibbing and on the Range have been plunged in the -40’s and worse with winds, while I complain about the heat (80’s) and humidity.
Anyhow, I’m resolved to write as much as I can for the next three weeks and enjoy having Gail down here for ten days. I’ll come back home with a new story and spend some time pushing sales of ‘THE FINAL CHAPTER’ which most people don’t seem to know about. This blog won’t change that as so few actually check my site. Surprise me with a comment if you’ve read this bog. See you soon . . .