It’s been a while since I’ve taken the time to write more than an email or therapy note, and it’s making me a little bit insane. The Hyades, the rainy ones, of greek mythology and in the painting above, made their way into my longest writing, Kindling. They made it rain to the point of flooding, which is why Sam and Tom are having such a rough time getting somewhere safe after Tom’s apartment burned down. I’ve been trying, aching for inspiration. I think, however, that reading my writing will be helpful.

The trick is, honestly, reading has become a chore for me, and I blame the masters program. I read textbooks that were surely interesting, but also long and often painfully dry. My aunt MB sent me a copy of The Girl Who Drank the Moon, and I’ve managed to get through about 4 chapters…but they’re short, it’s hard, and I feel incredibly sad that I don’t devour books like I used to. Furthermore, I keep thinking about a quote from Samuel Johnson, “Never trust an author that writes more than he reads.”

So…what to do today? read? read my own work and get my head in the game? Give up and lie on my bed festering and fuming over my lack of productive activity? (Obviously those are the only possible options.)

I choose to read something, write something, and celebrate myself a teensy bit. If you do have any interest in being a reader with me…which I suppose you’ve done by visiting this blog…I do have pieces, a few snippets of writings of which I’m pretty proud. Finishing something would be nice, and maybe sharing would light a fire beneath me to do so. We’ll see, I suppose.

Do I write more of Kindling (zombies, mental health, unicorns), Kept (based on the Collector, Jonathan Fowles’ opus on the workings of a fictional serial killer), or something shorter that might turn into something lovely? Decisions decisions. Something has to happen or I’ll feel pretty defeated.

Dear reader, what would you like to see me write?