Spoken by the Chicken
Busy squeezes out writing time. It’s September and that’s the real new year when you work at a University, only there’s no champagne.
Even writing this blogpost is difficult because I’m run off my feet, never mind the story I’ve got due by Sunday.
Sometimes I think: ah, if only I had nothing to do but write. But then I think: what would I write about?
Sometimes writers’ first books are better than their later ones. As they become “professional”, there’s less and less of the ordinary working stiff life that they have to participate in. Perhaps that’s why ‘late masterpieces’ are often ruminations on the ‘artistic life’. And dull. Kind of like later Rolling Stones albums- I mean, what do elderly millionaires have to sing about- with any passion? Tax shelters?
But luckily, I have no such luck. I’m blessed with plenty of the ordinary anxieties of life. Busy squeezes out writing time, but it also squeezes out writing. Stay tuned for my new
novel novella short story flash fiction piece anecdote haiku: Headless September- coming soon whenever to wherever good literature can be found.