My head is spinning. It’s all words, words, words these days.
I know that’s probably true for any writer, but I’m an editor, too, so sometimes it’s hard to figure out where my words stop and somebody else’s begin.
And, as if I don’t have enough words in my life already, Blydyn Square Books (my publisher) wants me to blog. God, that’s such a goofy word, blog, and if feels SO 2005. Plus, there’s the whole who-cares-what-I’m-up-to aspect of the thing…
But here goes.
Just to give you a hint of all the words in my life right now, here’s a sampling of what I’ve done so far today (bear in mind it’s only 1 p.m. as I write this):
- Got up at to run at 4:30 a.m. (while listening to Stendhal’s The Red and the Black as part of my 2017 New Year’s Resolution to read all those classics I somehow managed to miss along the way, which I can do while I run—thank you, Librivox!)
- Edited a couple of chapters of someone else’s novel, which was actually very good (a rarity!), but it filled my head with beautiful words that seem to be haunting me (a good sign for the author, who is clearly talented, but not so good for my poor, exhausted brain)
- Edited several chapters of a painfully dull, awkwardly stilted nonfiction educational book (unfortunately, THOSE are the kind of words that pay most of the bills around here)
And now it’s time for my own words, and I have to decide what to do first:
Research the book I’m planning to write for this year’s National Novel Writing Month, coming up in November?
Struggle to eke out a few coherent paragraphs on my tortured work in progress?
Read a little (because what writer doesn’t like to pretend that time spent curled up with a good book counts as “research”)?
Or maybe just pop a few aspirin and lie down with a cool cloth over my eyes to nurse the migraine all these words have given me.
Bring on the Bayer.