When I was younger, I thought that if I was turned into an animal, then surely it would be a fox. The moving flame that haunts the forest and makes its home in the twilight places. Yes, I thought with childish whimsy, almost able to feel the green moss under my paws, my nose twitching as I smelled something blackberry-rich and mysterious in the darkness, surely I would be a fox.
Now, looking in disbelief at the mass of half written stories, tarot decks, and pharmacy technician notes, and sewing paraphernalia on my desk, I am forced to come to a devastating conclusion: I am no fox. The raven and owl figures on my desk seem to agree as they eye me with a frankly unnecessary amount of judgment.
The truth is that I am an octopus girl, which would be fine if I lived underwater. But I am very much a land-based girl and I have a huge leggy sprawl of ideas pulling in different directions and not going anywhere. For August, my goal was to draw inward, to meditate and read and to dip back into my well of inspiration. Well, it worked. I wrote more in August than I did in the past three months. But none of it is focused, it is just the creative flame running wild. So, for September, the goal is to focus that energy, to work on one project at a time, sentence by sentence.
Also, this week I unearthed a buried treasure, which is exciting. I have a collection of writing notebooks which are half filled, abandoned, refound, and then abandoned again. This weekend, in search of a blank page to jot down notes on, I found the beginnings of a story I started around 4 years ago for NaNoWriMo then abandoned because of my typical “If I can’t be Alice Hoffman, what’s the point?” histrionics. Looking at it now, I found myself falling back in love with this character and feeling that her story needs to be told, so…new story! Which I am going to finish before beginning anything else.