Oh, man, it's been a while since I posted -- and it's probably not a great sign that half my posts this year (or so it seems) have been ruminations about how I haven't posted in a while. I know it's not interesting to write, so it can't be interesting to read. If I weren't stubborn, I might just put this blog out of its misery. But I am stubborn and I've invested years in this blog and it's just...it's just that... right now...
I don't know.
I would like to tell you that all my energy is being taken up by volunteering to work with orphans and/or working diligently on the second draft of The Novel. (I still cringe when I write the "n" word. It seems so ... so... ostentatious or something.)
But the truth is, I haven't been doing those things. The first one not at all, and the second very intermittently. It's just that going over the first draft, shyly and scared-ily showing it to people and getting their feedback, is proving a very difficult and trying process. I read whole chapters and just want to cry because it's just...not...there. Or it feels like too much, insurmountable.
I don't know.
I feel like I said that already. Sigh. But I guess my point is (if I even have one) that I'm floating out here somewhere, thinking often of this space, wondering why my brain seems to give me no inspiration to share something wise and witty here. Maybe it'll happen again soon. What I really mean is that I'm here. I'm still here.