Today will feature episode two in my ongoing attempt not to fret overmuch about what I post in the blog. I realized latterly that the blocks of time I had allotted for blogging were being overshot with some degree of frequency, and for the sake of sanity and productivity I’m attempting to be a bit more off the cuff. This will not go well, as I much prefer to reread efforts like Tuesday’s and fret and kvetch about my own uneven obscurity, but my well of resolve is deep right now, so I’m committed to the attempt.
Speaking of wells, I’ve also been distracted by a flash fiction contest that promises a little mischief in the short term. A magazine of speculative fiction has asked for dark stories inspired by the image of a sealed well up on Mount Teneriffe in Washington, and by golly my mojo can go there. Of course, writing this bit will oblige me to revise my six-week plan, which I am loath to do because I’m exceedingly fond of six-week planning. This, huzzah and alack, is the price I must pay for trying to live a life more closely connected with the present tense. I look forward to the project, as it seems like a big heap o’ fun, but even now I’m experiencing the early throes of the anxiety that attends my occasional willingness to veer off schedule.
In kindasorta related news, I took on English 236 (British Literature from Romanticism to the present) this summer in part as an effort to refresh my melon, since it would oblige me to teach (and in some cases read) works I haven’t looked at in a long time. It seems to be going well, as I’ve got a small group of students who are willing to give it a go, and I find that I’m much livelier class when I’m in an intermediate position, at once laying down technical connections and thinking out loud. I taught the bejillikers out of “Adonais” yesterday, in part because I was making better sense of the text for myself as we merrily rolled along. The two-hour summer sessions seemed like a slog to me in prospect, but I find myself consistently surprised when I look at the clock and find we’re running out of time.
I’m still having a hard time settling on a title for the book-length project I’ve got planned. While my sense of the internal divisions is perfectly clear, my mind is still in an alliterative, assonant place thanks to the story I just finished. As a result, though I know what the book essentially is about, I keep looking for language that pleases the ear as much as is satisfies the sense. I’ve really got to shake this impulse off; it’s getting awfully old.
I thought about talking about politics today, but the prospect just made me nauseous. It’s a tough time to be a moderate. It is, however, a great time for ramen noodle soup.
And as your reward for making it through today’s random post, a link to GraphJam! I extend my apologies to your employers in advance.
