I just changed the ink cartridges in my HP Officejet J5870 All-in-One printer/scanner/fax...and the top broke. Some piece of plastic snapped on one of the hinges and now I can't get it to close. That's $40 worth of ink down the tubes, and need for a new printer/scanner (no need for a fax; I no longer do that)...which I can't afford.
But that's the law -- machinery works great until it's most needed and will cost you double to replace; then it laughs and spits and says, "Gotcha!" Dammit. All I needed to do was print up my boarding pass for the flight to Seattle. And print a letter to the guy doing the artwork for David Martin.
Last night, as I lay in bed, I started to wonder if the reason I keep circling The Vanishing of Owen Taylor instead of just finishing it is a sense of, "Why bother?" It's a selfish attitude, no question, but it comes to me when I'm on the low end of my biorhythms. Because the reality is, I only have a few people who want to read my books, and there are times where a mere sense of obligation to the characters just isn't enough to make it happen...and then other potential projects get caught in the logjam of my ennui and it all gets to be overwhelming.
I may do some sketching during this trip. Nothing heavy-duty; just enough to take me off the blocked-up stream and give the damn dam a chance to break free. Or be dynamited.
Hmm...pen and ink having the same effect as explosives. Edward Bulwer-Lytton would be impressed.
So...whom should I sketch...?
Alex Minsky?
Rodiney Santiago?
But that's the law -- machinery works great until it's most needed and will cost you double to replace; then it laughs and spits and says, "Gotcha!" Dammit. All I needed to do was print up my boarding pass for the flight to Seattle. And print a letter to the guy doing the artwork for David Martin.
Last night, as I lay in bed, I started to wonder if the reason I keep circling The Vanishing of Owen Taylor instead of just finishing it is a sense of, "Why bother?" It's a selfish attitude, no question, but it comes to me when I'm on the low end of my biorhythms. Because the reality is, I only have a few people who want to read my books, and there are times where a mere sense of obligation to the characters just isn't enough to make it happen...and then other potential projects get caught in the logjam of my ennui and it all gets to be overwhelming.
I may do some sketching during this trip. Nothing heavy-duty; just enough to take me off the blocked-up stream and give the damn dam a chance to break free. Or be dynamited.
Hmm...pen and ink having the same effect as explosives. Edward Bulwer-Lytton would be impressed.
So...whom should I sketch...?
The face of a guy I found on Tumbler?
Decisions...decisions...naw, screw it -- I'll see what hits me in Seattle.
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