Fanning The Flames
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| Image: Capture Queen |
The couple of whiskies I had while watching a God awful film called Slither on Saturday night, fairly knocked me out. At least I think it was a combination of the whisky and tiredness—could easily have been the film alone it was such utter trash. I didn’t oversleep or anything, merely slept like a log and felt great when I got up on Sunday morning.
After taking care of some chores I headed out to Corstorphine and bought some goodies at the pet store—new décor and plants for the fish tank and some food. Back home, I got to work on phase 2, making the tank habitable for all fishes. It looks pretty god now and I’ll start stocking it up in the next week when the water levels settle.
Monday through to yesterday was a game of balancing workload and health. My chest is still sore but the rest of whatever it was I had has dissipated almost completely. Only problem is two of my team mates are loaded with it—probably got it from me—and the last thing I want is to catch it again.
I’ve not done any writing but am getting a lot out of the several books I am reading instead. I’m getting a lot out of the page at the moment and feel as though by at least reading a lot I am still learning about my craft. It’s not a loss, but a period of education and enlightenment. The words will come.
I think over the past few months, years even, I’ve got myself into a certain mind set of how I should approach my writing. That approach suited me well and fitted in with my lifestyle perfectly, and as a result, I wrote every day, read not so much, but got published a lot. Now, my life has changed so much to the point I have to alter that balance or I’ll never write again. I have to come to terms with recent changes so that I can be at peace with myself, thus allowing my mind to release its creativity and make everything I write better and more satisfying. It will only be less prolific.
As I write this I feel pretty great about most things in my life. Sure, nothing is perfect, but it is in the understanding, the finding a solution and fixing that one can learn and grow as a person. Right now all I want to do is read and read. So I’m going to. The writing fire is still there, it just needs a little bit of coal placed about the edges and some oxygen delicately fanned over it to breathe it new life.
Before I leave you this Wednesday, here’s what the tank in my office looks like now. Oh, and Diane, yes that is a pile of books in the reflection—two in fact—all of which are still to be read, which is why they aren’t on the overflowing bookshelf on the side of the room. I don’t know what it is, but I just can’t keep up 
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November 18th, 2009 at 12:05 pm
Nice to see Sharky alive and well and enjoying the new scenery.
I took 4 years off from my writing … it sounds like forever, but I got back to it eventually. Not sure if that will cheer or depress you, although I wish I’d not let life interfere so much for so long. Every time I thought I’d settled back down again, up popped something else to hit me in the face. When I stopped beating myself up about not being able to write, I started to write again. Nuff said.