Summer. With time to read. And time to write. What a relief after the busy-ness of the school year, when I'm trying to balance teaching with my own reading and writing. I had high hopes for this summer. I planned to spend uninterrupted hours reading the poetry books and journals that were piling up
Read MoreWhat I Read--and Didn't Write--This Summer
Comments
Aug 22, 2012 12:53 PM EDT
What an interesting — and honest — perspective. The guilt of taking time off, and the possible benefits of lying fallow. And the envy of those who did not, during the same time. We know they aren't competitors. There isn't a finite pool of ideas and talent we all draw from. And yet.
So often I use my large family as my excuse for not getting more writing done. My excuse for myself — because others look at the size of my family and never ask why I don't do more, they applaud that I manage to do anything else at all.
But I know better. I know I could do more, and better.
In our hearts we always know privately where we've slacked off. But sometimes we have to go full circle to the place where others see us, giving credit for what we do accomplish. And sometimes, maybe, lying fallow awhile is a necessary part of that.
- Nichole Bernier
Aug 23, 2012 8:10 PM EDT
"Working on poems day after day can become a closed world for me." So well said.... I feel so similar. I've created a prose project for myself (and write a blog), both which help to open that world.
I also relate with the feeling of thinking--even if for a moment--that perhaps I should be somewhere else, further along, etc. and if I'd done this different or that different, I would be.
When I've immersed myself in my writing and reading in all the ways I think I "should," there some other *thing* that I feel remiss with... which tells me that my worries have little to do with the *thing* I'm either doing or not doing. It has to do with my HEAD.
Thankfully, a lot of creative people can relate to this kind of experience, so at least we're not alone. :)
- laura didyk