Contemporaneous: Chapters 16 – 17
16. I leave Melody’s manuscript sitting there in my email, festering like … and I can’t come up with metaphor or simile that will illustrate what a festering, diseased, terminal clusterfuck it is, so I’ll just say that it sat there in my email, festering like only her manuscript could. Despite my disdain, I still want to get the best out of it and out of Melody, so I need to work out a strategy. But I’m frazzled now. And feel an edge, like Melody’s dismissal isn’t the indifferent vainglory of some cocky young writer, but divine condemnation that exemplifies my own failures. There are other manuscript on my…
Contemporaneous: Chapters’ 6 & 7
6. I never knew when I went from somebody who enjoyed working, who looked forward to editing and writing, to somebody who worked to pay the bills, and looked forward to the weekend for some respite, and writing became a habit, like smoking, that I just kept doing because it had become so ingrained in my life. Once I get home, I lay on my bed, and try to let my mind wander. When I was younger – like in my twenties – I used to be able to just let go, and let my mind wander without focus or direction, without needing to explore any thought that cropped up,…