Watched Attack of the Clones last night. The shininess continues. I still like the Imax version better. Through judicious cutting, there was much less Anakin-whining in it. Despite the myriad flaws in writing, directing, and acting, the Star Wars movies are stunningly beautiful.
I’m in a blue funk. Not sure if it’s the weather, general disequilibrium, or I’m stressed–probably all of the above. I feel like bursting into tears for no reason, and I’m supremely unmotivated. All I want to do is curl up on the couch with Matthew and Hobkin. From both experience and faint memories of abnormal psychology texts at university, I know this will pass. Odds are it will pass soon. But right now, I feel relentlessly melancholy. Been self-medicating with huge quantities of caffeine and Sudafed (because my sinuses continue to be fubared and I find the stimulant in Sudafed pretty damn potent), which seems to keep me functional. But I’m paying a high price in abbreviated attention span, sniffles, and twitches.
Continuing to dwell on writing productivity and the mechanisms of creativity (and letting the dormant psychologist in me out for an airing). Came across this 2002 article by Stephen Krashen, “Optimal Levels of Writing Management: A Re-Analysis of Boice (1983),” (regarding Boice’s “Contingency management in writing and the appearance of creative ideas: Implications for the treatment of writing blocks.”) What I found of particular interest is that both Boice’s original study and Krashen’s re-analysis conclude that writing begets creativity, not the other way around. Krashen has even quantified it to “three-quarters of a creative idea per page.”
I’ve noticed this tendency myself, that I might have the start of a story with no real direction or theme in mind, but as I write, ideas and inspiration start coalescing. It’s much less likely for these creative nuggets to plop in my lap when I’m not actively engaged in writing, and if I get stuck and stop writing, I tend to stay stuck unless I force myself to address the page and just hammer on through. I haven’t gone so far as to count how many times inspiration hits per outputted page, though. I’m not exactly sure how I’d go about doing that, and I suspect it would not be beneficial to maintaining flow.
I wonder if creativity works like that with other creative endeavors like painting, sculpting, and musical composition.
Received a care package from Nathan at Scrybe Press: my royalty check, Hobgoblin Boots by Tansy Rayner Roberts, Bounty’s Stepchild by Justin Stanchfield, and the new matte cover version of Ascendancy of Blood. My library of chapbooks continues to grow.
Just in case communications went awry, I queried John Frost, the editor of IROSF to see what the status is on the paperwork for my Cyberpunk article.
No word from Brutarian on a query, which makes me think both my submission and my query have fallen victim to the editor’s notoriously overzealous spam blocker. Also no word from Talebones on two queries. Their server has been rife with “issues” involving email and their forum registration. I have a sinking suspicion that none of my queries got through, and that my submission has been lost in the great beyond. Dammit. Talebones is switching to a new server. I’ll fire off another query as soon as I hear that they’ve migrated to their new platform.
Word count: 500 Again, barely. And I’m reasonably certain they all suck goat toes. Worse, it was 500 words across three different stories so I haven’t accomplished any sort of meaningful chunk out of anything.
Club 100 for Writers