Friday, October 11, 2002
Yesterday I wrote another 1,100 words on the Embrace the Mutation story, and its title changed from "Andromeda on the Stones" to "Andromeda Among the Stones." So, it was a pretty good writing day; I only hope that today will go as well.
It's never certain, but nothing ever is.
I woke at 7:30 a.m., from strange dreams, my head instantly filled with doubts and anger and darker things, and have spent the last few hours trying to sort through the noise to find the calm places I have to find every day. I'm at one of those points, one of those loci that, if I'm not careful, can suddenly become an impasse. Maybe all artists have them. Maybe they don't. I don't spend much time having actual conversations, about those things which matter, with other artists, so I honestly don't know. Some of these things are simple and silly and merely inconvenient. Some of them are profound and make me afraid to take a step in any direction. All actions, including inaction, could be disasterous. Sort of like writing a novel. Each word is a bridge to the next word, and each word drives the story towards its fate. Decisions are simply words. The words we write our lives with. Our lives are merely stories we tell because we've found no other means of navigating time.
Except - time allows us no revisions.
Someone will write me an e-mail today and ask me what the hell I'm going on about. I won't know what to say to them.
If I knew the answer, I'd provide it now.
It's October 11th and I should have been in Providence days and days ago. But I'm still here, in my vast and leaky apartment in a city I find completely intolerable. It finds me intolerable as well, so all's fair in love, war, and horseshoes. I know that's not how the saying goes, but I don't much care right now. It felt pretty good to write, meaning aside. I am an inertial creature. And right now I'm trying to find the wherewithall to overcome the seductive pull of gravity. I could remain at rest, because that's the simplest, perhaps even the most natural, course of action. But it might also be the worst mistake of all. These aren't naive "nothing ventured, nothing gained" platitides. This is something else, even if I can't quite explain what.
I did an interview for Comicon's webzine thing yesterday, mostly questions about Bast: Eternity Game and my work within the Sandman mythos. Also, it seems that Fred Berger at Propaganda has decided not to run the interview I gave him more than a year ago (I'm sure it's hopelessly out of date now, anyway), because he'd rather run a porn mag than a literary / goth / music - whatever - the - hell - Propaganda - was - supposed - to - be zine. If this is indeed the case (and I think it is becasue the interview was supposed to run in the new issue, and it didn't), I'll simply have Jennifer post it on the website. We'll see, but few things piss me off like taking the time to give a detailed interview that never gets run.
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