As I was falling asleep last night (much too late after reading more of Neil Gaiman's American Gods), I turned off my light and couldn't fall asleep. Just before I had turned off the light I had seen the small scatter of coins on my bedstand, and some prose started composing itself in my head. Not wanting to lose the stream or forget it by morning, I grabbed a pencil, and the closest paper to me, and wrote.
This is what came out of the pencil.
(Only slightly edited from its raw, late-night format)
One writer's thoughts on literature and writing, as well as occasional reflections, insights, essays, and finds.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Misplaced energies and babbling
The beginning of this summer I started using a technique to cut down on procrastination and get more stuff done. It's sort of worked: Mainly, I've been reading daily (Neil Gaiman's American Gods).
The technique has helped me open my blog and write a lot, but that doesn't always translate into more blog posts that are published. I have at least three reviews of albums almost ready to publish on Seattle Whispers, but they don't feel done.
The technique has helped me open my blog and write a lot, but that doesn't always translate into more blog posts that are published. I have at least three reviews of albums almost ready to publish on Seattle Whispers, but they don't feel done.
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