The new school year has begun, and with it, a concomitant uptick in my stress levels. That said, I am continuing, in both my day job teaching and in my dream job writing, to continue the drafting of The Year of Rage.
When I was a college student, I referred to a lot of my posts on school and the goal of teaching as Secher Nbiw, the Golden Path of the Dune novels. Now I apply that label to posts about writing. I may have demoted “being a working writer” from “Definitely Going to Happen” to “I’m working towards it, but it’s still a pipe dream,” but I’m still working on it.
This story is stubborn, though. Seeking Home took about two years, post Viable Paradise, to complete–I attended VP in 2013, and the novel was completed in August of 2015. This book is going much slower. I’ve barely begun, and it’s not working. I know what needs to happen, I just have a hard time making it work. I think it’s because a ton of my energy this year has gone to mental and physical health, and not much has remained for creativity.
On the health front, I’m getting used to the new reality in which I have to take four pills every morning. It’s not that bad, just a tiny bit demoralizing when I realize that this is the reality I live in now. But since it comes with it a reduced risk of a heart attack, frankly, I’ll take it.
Still, there’s fallout from the scare of a few weeks back. If I stub my toe and yell out, my family has a momentary panic and wants to make sure I’m okay. I try to remember it’s just concern and deal with the annoyance, but I’m not always able to let it roll off.
Onward and upward!