Attitude is everything. White t-shirt. Old jeans. Cup of coffee.

My spine bends, shoulders hunched, fingers tickling, bouncing, sliding, rapid fast over keys. Tick. Tick. Tick. The sound of thoughts on paper.

A fast-paced jazz score is filling my bones as my pupils contract in the harsh sunlight of the day. I'm waiting for the night. I'm waiting for the earth to cool and my heart to pound with the excitement of anticipation.

For I am about to set myself free within ... << MORE >>

I don't know what to say....

Life took over and left no room for me to even think about let alone work on anything that even remotely resembled creative writing. There is only one word to describe what happened.

Drama.

The big D.

Need more than that? Okay.

Work drama.

I have never been in a position where I've had to contend with another human being's complete breakdown. ... << MORE >>

Grrrrrrrrr.

I'm slowly crawling and straining to get back to the act of writing. Yesterday was a significant event in the breaking of the routine, the funk, the malaise. I hiked up Saddle Mountain in the coastal mountain range. It started out sunny and clear. About three-quarters of a mile into the hike, clouds started rolling in. I cracked a joke, stating that by the time we reached the summit, we'd be in blizzard conditions. It suddenly started snowing. When we finally did reach the summit to experience one of the greatest views in Oregon, ... << MORE >>

For those who might have been wondering ... no I'm not dead. But for awhile there, it felt like I was.

There's only one excuse from my long absence from the world of blogging and writing and that is complete emotional, psychological, and physical exhaustion. Every time I reached a moment in my day to sit down and think about writing or blogging about writing, all I really wanted to do was collapse in a chair and shut down. And that's exactly what I did.

Whenever I ... << MORE >>

The past two weeks have been an uphill battle of work-related mini-disasters and an overwhelming sense of not being in control of anything. Drowning in a washing machine set on "regular' and "cold" is the best way to describe it. And now I've reached the end of a difficult climb back to a "normalized" schedule and today is the first day I actually have the time and energy to look around and think about something else other than work or domestic chores or the need to escape from both.

There is an exhaustion ... << MORE >>

There's been no time for me to even think about my projects lately. Training new staff at work combined with the Japanese Garden getting busier in general and having to come home and work on freelance work has just been exhausting. And it's totally depressing to boot.

The past two weeks, I've been able to unleash my experience and skill set in organizing and teaching and managing—a skill set I obtained from the many years of working as a manager and a horse riding and swim instructor. And while I do take a certain amount of pride in being able to problem solve and whip things into shape, I don't want to be that person. I don't want to be a good manager or a reliable sort. I'd much rather be a hermit scholar, curled up with my books and my thoughts and my writing.

I don't take compliments well and these past few weeks have been filled with a lot of praise for being "strong" and "independent" and "a leader." And it all makes me just want to shut down and cry. For I so long to be seen as a creative sort of person, an intelligent sort of person, an innovator of words. And while I know that dream smacks of self-delusion, it's not one I'm ready to abandon just yet.

Do I except the fate of being a good employee and responsible taxpayer and nothing more?

Or do I shed yet another skin in the hopes that my rebirth will be a final one?

Charles Dickens is a master. I can see how the vernacular is a little dated for the modern reader, but for those who can get passed the language, his style is extraordinary. And as I sit and read him, it makes me realize I have a lot to learn when it comes to narrating a story.

So many people ask if I read certain contemporary authors and, for the most part, the only ones I read consistently are Louise Erdrich and, well, Louise Erdrich. Per Patterson's Out Stealing Horses ... << MORE >>

With two submissions out there floating around (or swirling if you're more inclined toward toilet bowl imagery) in the invisible void that is the World of Publishing, I coasted gracefully on the high of said submissions before crashing into a fiery mess of wasted time, motivational paralysis, and creative bankruptcy. I think this is what is affectionately referred to as the highs and lows, the hills and valleys, the ups and downs. Not wanting to add any credibility to the bipolar swing that is usually attached to creative people, I do have to admit that there is some ... << MORE >>

Well, I feel like I've finally recovered from my postsubmission crash ... I send two manuscripts out and next thing I'm collapsing into a stretch of unproductive emotional malaise. What the hell?

Well, today is the start of a new week, a new month, and a new attitude.

I immersed myself in some great storytelling this weekend: episodes of Law & Order and The X-Files and Masterpiece Classic on PBS and Charles Dickens. And instead of feeling like I just wasted a huge amount of time, ... << MORE >>

I'm buried under a pile of time that is not my own. A week full of tasks. A desktop full of work. An apartment covered in dust. Moments freed are spent reading Dickens. The narrative is so incredible in its originality and I'm left with a gentle mix of admiration and jealousy.

I long for change in so many ways. A change in my surroundings. A change within myself. A change throughout the world.

My little vacation from the desire to become a writer has left behind ... << MORE >>