The news and resultant media coverage of Robin Williams’ suicide have knocked me off my pins a bit, given my niece’s suicide last June, and my own history of attempted suicide. For the most part, I am avoiding the discussions, except the sensible ones such as August McLaughlin’s post and associated links. Suicide is a lying, attractive beast I have to wrestle back to its cage more days than not. To listen to the rampant stupidity being tossed around on TV makes the beast that more attractive.
However, in some odd way spurred by self defense, I am still scribbling on any surface that will take fountain pen ink, still grabbing any keyboard I can to dump the flow of thoughts and words and craziness flooding my brain right now.
Very little of it is pretty, and it took a long time to scrape together an acceptable WIPpet Wednesday excerpt, but the neurons are firing in some amazing aurora borealis ways. I had the sort of day yesterday where tracing a thread through the research actually led to some amazing connections, not the usual, “How did I spend two hours on the Internet and find nothing useful?”
Even the day job is going well, which is amazing since Monday was one of those, “Can I swim the English channel instead of going to work?” days. It says a lot when one would prefer to be slathered in lanolin rather than face the veal-fattening pen.
So, I am upping the ante to at least one hour of writing/outlining/communing with characters a day. Yoga and meditation are firmly in place, in small, non-vertigo-causing stints. And I might have an office to show off on Sunday, if I’m lucky.
ROW80 is a writing challenge that knows you have a life, the brainchild of Kait Nolan. Check out the description if you think you might like to participate, and either way, cheer on the participants here.