Monday, November 7, 2011

Short. Temper.

The Roller Derby Queen and I were having a conversation where she said one of those things that makes perfect sense.

Bad travels fast.

Okay, that wasn't exactly what she said, but that's the essence of it.

When something is going wrong in your life it's more than likely that it's going to end up overshadowing the everything. It ends up taking all the air out of the room.

Which is why NaNoWriMo is leaving me in the dust. Instead of doing the writing I should be doing to catch up on the word count, I can't seem to put a single coherent thought together. Which is making NaNoWriMo exceptionally frustrating.

Which is making me think of walking away from it for this year.

Truth be told, I don't actually think I'm a novelist. It's never been my great ambition. I love the short story which is unfortunate in a time when some will tell you that the short story is over. Which, ultimately, doesn't really matter. When the books are all destined for the drawer in your office, it's remarkably easy to ignore market trends.

But, tonight, I just can't decide. Am I short, or is it simply my temper?

BIG troubles

So, today I ended the day with a call from my BIG (1) boss.

It came at the end of one of those days where it feels like, one after another, things are happening to you and there's nothing you can do to slow it down. Earlier, before the BIG boss, I had a call with my really BIG boss, BIG's BIG boss, and had a moment where every emotion that I was feeling came clearly enough to the surface that I heard the voice on the other end of the phone change. Change in a "it's not that big a deal" way...

Which left me feeling both embarrassed and more than a little childish.

So, by the time my BIG boss called I was sufficiently frayed.

The details of the conversation are unimportant except to say that they returned to a conversation I've found myself having frequently with folks, and it is this:

Writing is actual, real live, honest-to-sweet-Mary-above work. It takes skill. It takes talent.

And some folks refuse to recognize this. They know more than I do and that's that. There's nothing to do to change that fact.

At the end of the day, I was told, I just have to let folks do with my work what they feel they need to do.

Pieces that I spend hours laying out and fine tuning?

I need to leave them open enough so that people, people without degrees in art or design or writing, can  change them up as they see fit.

So why, I wonder, am I there? Because, honestly, I'm increasingly confused about that.

1. Big Important workplace.