Photo: Shoutout to my friend Marney Mae over at The Salted Banana, one of my favorite blogs on the web because I love her pictures and thoughts so very much. I do believe that the nasturtium in my flower boxes are now second generation from the seeds she sent me last year. They are breathtaking and they have interesting leaves and they are now cascading down from the flower boxes in most dramatic fashion. So sending my love to you, Marney, thank you for being a presence in my garden this year!
I am keeping this post short because (deep breath) Ihaveawritingassignmentduetomorrowandthereisjustnowaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyy.
Ok, ok, I’m going to stop freaking out.
Nope, I’m freaking out.
I have 14 pages due to my writing coach tomorrow. 14 pages. I have… maybe 4. And that’s a miracle because, though I’ve been wrestling with this assignment with my full creative energy since Friday, I haven’t been able to produce anything good. I mean, I’ve produced, but I’ve produced poorly.
So I sent my coach a very pathetic email last night. Subject line: “What happens if I don’t have anything to turn in on turn-in day?”
and she, ever so patient and forgiving, gently told me to a) forgive myself and b) keep on truckin’.
The problem is the Point-of-View of the assignment. It has to be written in First Person.
You’re laughing, right? I can hear you laughing.
Yes, the irony is not lost on me.
I don’t fiction in First Person! I never have! But I have to for this assignment. My coach made it clear: this is inflexible. First Person or bust. Lord in Heaven…
So I sulked and went to bed. I got up this morning and tried again. And again. And again. Nothing clicked until early this afternoon. And it’s merely a click. Ain’t no fire here. Ain’t no brilliance on the page right now. Just a flowing of words, and that’s a damn victory because before there was nothing! NOTHING!
….sorry… gonna get myself together…
I haven’t been this freaked out about an assignment since graduate school. This is not ok. I also have freelance work due tomorrow! Bad things are happening, Dear Reader!
Huh? An extension?
Oh, Dear Reader… this is where you may well throw your computer.
I was offered an extension, Dear Reader. A generous extension from my generous and wonderful coach.
But my pride, Dear Reader…. my pride. Oh, my pride! I did not accept the generosity! Accepting the extension, nay, even acknowledging its existence, removes the power of the deadline, which is the entire point of me signing up for this class. I’m desperate for the weekly hard deadline. I don’t do extensions. I’ve never done extensions. There are deadlines met and then there are failures. And I don’t do failures, either.
So, there is a big pot of spaghetti on the stove, there are fig newtons and beer to accompany my tears of frustration this evening. I’m prepared for the long night knowing that the sunrise will come with a successful turn-in.
A successful turn-in!
So… I am going to leave you with my rantings and ravings today, knowing I will be calm and happy on Wednesday and will have Quiet Thoughts on Friday. And maybe, even, a bit of news. Fingers crossed.
Happy Monday, Dear Reader. Thanks for your patience with my insanity today. Until Wednesday, take care.