I haven’t written anything in the last couple weeks since I finished the revisions on “Requiem.” It’s kind of been nice to take a little break. Editing that novella was a lot of work. I think it will be worth it in the end, but it was a lot of work. And I learned some things…
Working on that novella solidly, with no thought to anything else, for that long (and I suppose, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t that long)… writing became stressful. I had all these ideas running around in my head and nowhere to put them. I don’t do well when I juggle projects — in terms of creative work, I am not a multi-tasker. And my notes tend to leave a lot to be desired, so often, my work becomes intermingled, and I become confused, and suddenly I have green-legged ants and things with beards where they shouldn’t be and two main characters wondering where their story went.
So I prefer not to multi-task.
It’s kind of like what Stephen King mentioned in his introduction to his latest collection, “Just After Sunset,” when he talked about how, during the course of his novel-writing, he kept having all these lovely ideas for these great and profound stories, which he put off until the novel was done… only to find the stories had withered and shriveled into dry, fallen leaves, and blown away.
At the time I read his words, I didn’t get it.
I do now.
So today, I began work on “Woods.” Today, sitting down with my notepad and pen, carefully picking and choosing my words for what will be my next short story, I felt a profound sense of satisfaction. I look forward to welding my words into an experience. I look forward to spending the next couple weeks living in this moment I’m crafting.
I look forward to taking advantage of this idea.
And the next.
And the next.