The last two weeks have been… kind of awesome, actually. I’ve been: talking | looking | loving | shovelling | sleeping | daydreaming | approaching | figuring | troubleshooting | falling
I don’t know if the last two weeks have felt so odd, or if it’s just the last few days. Either way, I’ve been: wishing | having | loving | thinking | wanting | starting | buying | getting | trying | hoping
The last two weeks, I’ve been: working | falling | taking | figuring | getting | feeling | prototyping | planning | daydreaming | trying
[FYI: This is kind of long. Feel free to skip it if you’re not interested in reading my stream-of-consciousness artistic angst.]
Ugh. This month.
I mean… it’s not as bad as I probably make it sound. I’ve made real progress in figuring out what’s going on in my NaNoWriMo story: I know who my main character is, and who the antagonist is, and I sorted out the big worldbuilding issue I was having. I’ve started to figure out how the backstory I’ve been thinking about fits into the main story, and I know (generally) what’s driving the plot.
I’ve also been (slowly) building my daily writing practice back into something that I’m happy with, and that will put me on track to be able to hit the word counts I’ll need to make it through NaNoWriMo.
So far, so good.
The summer brought a bit of an existential and creative crisis, and the wanderlust that’s always buzzing in the back of my mind got overwhelming. I really needed to be someplace else, preferably someplace unfamiliar, utterly on my own, for just a few days. Montréal seemed ideal—affordable, just different enough to get me out of my rut, and close enough that a weekend trip made sense.