3 November 2015
When it rains, it pours. Life these days is putting the screws to the intrepid team at One Year of Letters. How can every one of us be sunk all at once? One would think we lived in the same house, but in fact we are scattered across the US.
This is no apology for our silence. If anything, drama makes for spectacular fodder. I am certain we each have plenty to say, but the current commodity is Time, as Kerry recently put it. One cannot find enough of it before exhaustion kicks in. We spend our days fighting demons, flood waters, bankruptcy, children, and bills. It wasn’t always so tough. For a year, we eked out the time to expound on the impact of those battles, but now we bow to a fierce autumn storm. We used to tag-team our troubles, fill in for each other. October 2015 finds us with no one to tag.
For my part, I confess to moving inward, hoarding Time to myself like Midas hoards gold. Instead of doing the many things I ought to have done, both at home and on the blog, I’ve invested my efforts in preparing to market an upcoming book. I had this notion that doing the unpleasant task at once, to the exclusion of all else, would see it done in the shortest amount of time. That’s what I told everyone else, but the truth is less flattering: to finish anything right I must bury myself completely, else it ends up on the never-ending pile of To-Dos.
So I hunkered down at my laptop and Tweeted nonstop, creating an account for this blog ( @1yearofletters ) and then another for my author profile ( @ccaune1 ). This was not an important accomplishment in the big scheme of things, and now, everywhere, I see repercussions. I feel particularly bad about disappearing on my beloved writing colleagues. They have real-life concerns that overshadow my obsession with becoming an author. Hell, even I have concerns that I never talk about here, concerns that I’d rather not face like I should. Mindless Tweeting offered me refuge from my troubles. It was avoidance in the guise of seeming productive.
Even if what I did was really productive. (4,600 followers between two accounts!)
But it’s time I dialed myself back and took control of this runaway project of ours, not to mention that other stuff I keep putting off. As a creative person, it’s hard to stay focused, hard to stay present, hard to face the drudgery of everyday crap. I wish I had someone who could manage those things while I noodled and pontificated from morning to night, but I don’t, so I just need to shut off the right brain and switch to the left.
Man the pump and jettison the ballast, mateys! I’m coming back to the surface.
To read more letters, click on The Path!
Welcome back to the surface, or at least one of the surfaces, Colleen!
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