Tuesday, November 29, 2011

The things that cause doubt


Well, I am so far behind in everything that it's not even funny. No, seriously. Stop chortling and looking at your stacks of crisp, completed, peer-reviewed essays that probably hold the key to curing all of the world's ills inside their smooth pages. I'm tearing my hair out over here.


Saw an author speak last night, an incredible guy who made me stop and think and take deep breaths. Y'know how sometimes, a person will show you a painting (Andy Warhol) or lend you a book (Michael Ondaatje) that is widely recognized as being a life-altering work, something to discuss half-heartedly over a cup of tea and a fruit scone, and you just can't muster up the energy to praise it's merits. Well, last night was the exact opposite. This guy wasn't interested in talking about his muse, or writing practices. He would answer technical writing questions if pressed, but higher up on his agenda was making you laugh, and cry, and feel a vague sense of disgust, preferably in the same breath. I am not clever enough to describe it properly. He was wonderful.


Back to more mundane matters, I think I may have seen Somebody That I Used To Know on the bus today. I was completely engrossed in a boring book, but shaking inside. Uh-oh.

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