There's something interesting happening. Sometime in November my photography took a big leap in quality. My pictures became less tortured snapshots with sloppy lighting, and became portraits.
Today I went back to work on a short story, one of the first I've written since graduating. I'm struggling with it, but not in a bad way. It has depth and a lot of layers, many of which I didn't expect. My struggle is coming up with an ending that is good enough.
I've been so focused on logistical crap, I'd been neglecting my art. And I long ago discovered that its my art that feeds my soul. Without it, I'm nothing.
So, I have a collection of sixteen stories, all in various stages of development. My goal is to have a complete manuscript finished by the end of the year. The story I'm struggling with now is the greenest, and it's number six in the collection. Stories one through five are finished. But January 1, I start building my strategy for getting them to a publisher. Another new mountain to climb. And I already have my next novel bubbling in the back of my head. It's a little formulaic at this point, but I can't get distracted from the stories to work it out.
I had another interview over the phone, and have scheduled a face-to-face for next week. Just with a temp agency, but with my life at loose ends at the moment, that may be the best way to go.
Underneath all of the worry and angst about staring into the abyss, I know all will be well. What would life be if it was all routine and safe?
Thursday, December 13, 2007
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