Let's try this again
Well, there's not really much that I can do to apologize for a near two-month hiatus from this. I just know that, looking back on this, I'm going to wish that I'd done a better job chronicling the events of the end of my summer and the beginning of my senior year.
Time to get back on the wagon-- what are some important points about the last eight weeks? I'm now a Kenyon Review Associate, which means I'm reading submissions from the seemingly endless slush pile. I've been slowly adding to The Silence, the title of which I thought for a while I would change to Sinclair and the Silence, but then decided otherwise (tentative title for the second book: An Empty Sky). It's really kind of sad how little I've progressed on that front so far this year, but it brings me to another point-- senior year seems to be all about work. Seriously, what is the deal with that? I'm asking you.
Three English classes may not have been the smartest decision in the world, but I think I'll be able to push through to the end of the semester, and I won't repeat the mistake again in the latter half of the year. Let's see-- I haven't done any theater, which I think was probably a smart move despite how delightful my friends' theses turned out to be.
Lemony Snicket's "The End" came out. The series has now concluded. Let's not get into that, it'll depress me.
Been reading a lot of Emerson and F. Scott Fitzgerald in the past month or so, and it's had a profoundly polarizing effect on my perspective: I feel simultaneously (and sometimes alternatingly) empowered and helpless.
For the most part, senior year is turning out rather well, and though I'm still terrified of the future, I have some tentative ideas of what the future might entail, and I'll progress towards those soon enough. I have to keep working on The Silence-- I know it's a foolish dream to think I'm going to get it published, I know it's stupid and impossible and all of that, but I can't stop writing it, I can't stop trying to get it out to people, to get my story told-- I am compelled. And that fact alone gives me tiny shreds of hope.
Time to get back on the wagon-- what are some important points about the last eight weeks? I'm now a Kenyon Review Associate, which means I'm reading submissions from the seemingly endless slush pile. I've been slowly adding to The Silence, the title of which I thought for a while I would change to Sinclair and the Silence, but then decided otherwise (tentative title for the second book: An Empty Sky). It's really kind of sad how little I've progressed on that front so far this year, but it brings me to another point-- senior year seems to be all about work. Seriously, what is the deal with that? I'm asking you.
Three English classes may not have been the smartest decision in the world, but I think I'll be able to push through to the end of the semester, and I won't repeat the mistake again in the latter half of the year. Let's see-- I haven't done any theater, which I think was probably a smart move despite how delightful my friends' theses turned out to be.
Lemony Snicket's "The End" came out. The series has now concluded. Let's not get into that, it'll depress me.
Been reading a lot of Emerson and F. Scott Fitzgerald in the past month or so, and it's had a profoundly polarizing effect on my perspective: I feel simultaneously (and sometimes alternatingly) empowered and helpless.
For the most part, senior year is turning out rather well, and though I'm still terrified of the future, I have some tentative ideas of what the future might entail, and I'll progress towards those soon enough. I have to keep working on The Silence-- I know it's a foolish dream to think I'm going to get it published, I know it's stupid and impossible and all of that, but I can't stop writing it, I can't stop trying to get it out to people, to get my story told-- I am compelled. And that fact alone gives me tiny shreds of hope.
posted by Nate at 1:18 AM
2 Comments:
First off, i'm glad you finally updated.
Second, English Classes somehow manage to be extremely interesting and horrifyingly overwhelming. I'm taking two 300's and a 400 next semester, and frankly, i'll be suprised if I make it out alive.
Finally, I don't think it's stupid to think you'll be published. How could you ever finish anything if you didn't think there was a point to it? People less talented than you with less interesting work manage to find publication. I have no doubt you will too.
Good Ruck.
Writers write
they have to
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