So. I had forgotten how endlessly productive I can be creatively when I’m procrastinating from something. This really is like school all over again, the night before a big paper is due. I’m attempting to edit what I have of the novel thus far, but as of right now I have managed to bring out Sabina the acoustic guitar and fiddle with Arkady the piano instead of writing. It makes me remember when I used to be kind of cool: when I wore top hats and corsets and pirate boots just because I could, when I could pull out a fairly decent repertoire of The Libertines, Jewel, Hedwig and the Angry Inch, Don McLean, and Simon & Garfunkel songs on Sabina, when I could play Tori Amos, Leonard Cohen, and Debussy on Arkady without needing to look at my sheet music, when I used to record myself singing three-part harmony for fun, and when I used to be a prolific artist. Since turning 20 I seemed to have rapidly aged 10 years and now feel a bit like a stodgy old matron instead of the irresponsible 23-year-old I ought to be.
I feel a bit as though I’m emerging from a long sleep (although I could actually use a decent night’s rest; I don’t have the stamina I did as a university student to stay up all hours of the night to write). I’ve rediscovered a little bit what used to make me awesome. Not that I’m not awesome now because I still am. I mean, I jump out of perfectly good airplanes. And I write young adult fantasy.
Not a lot accomplished tonight. Oh well. Tomorrow is another day.
