Writing Practice

I skipped a day (it was an off-day) so I’ll try to make up for it here.

I realize the more I read classic and modern literature, the smaller I feel as a writer.  But I can’t let that stop me from writing something every day.  Most days will be excruciatingly boring, dumb stuff, but maybe accidentally I’ll get it right some time.

This won’t be one of those days.

On the brighter side, my resolutions are coming along very well.  I only report this to encourage you, not to make you feel worse or throw rotten things at me.  It looks like a vertical mountain at first, but when you take it a small step at a time, it becomes a level plain.

Except maybe the Infernal Machine part.  That always feels like a steep incline somehow.  But I don’t let that stop me, because I see the good end result up ahead.

As for the fiendish filing from hell, I’m taking an almost diabolical pleasure in ripping old papers to shreds (cue evil laughter).  My paper recycle keeps filling up.  It’s satisfying to destroy the evidence of my compulsive past.

I’m currently crawling my way through two books: Andrew Hodges, Alan Turing: the Enigma, and (rereading) Philip K. Dick, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?  (Inspirations for the movies, “The Imitation Game”, and “Blade Runner”, respectively, both of which I’ve seen.)  I say crawling, because I don’t do as much reading as I used to, these days.  Something to do with the dispiriting atmosphere of Ohio, I guess.  I’m trying to rebuild that habit as well, to limit my unproductive time online.

As for the latter, the news continues to be extremely surreal and disturbing.  It defies reason.  So I skim the headlines, and try not to dwell on the psychosis of our so-called incoming president and co.    I have to hope and believe that saner minds, including those of the founding fathers, will prevail.

Meanwhile, we’re tightening the proverbial belt even more, to save for our move.  Our ambitions are modest and limited by a low fixed income, but we are determined to get out of this forsaken state (like, apparently, all the smart people before us).  We’re dreaming of a tiny house on a small piece of land with a garden and small animals, a safe haven for our extended/adopted family to feel welcome.

Well, that’s all I have for now.






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