It is, after all, the cusp of a new year–a convenient time to consider change.
If we do what we’ve always done, we’ll get what we’ve always got, they say.
And if what we’ve got has been other than what we think and hope is possible even in this fallen world, it’s time to regroup.
My doing things differently needs to bring me a tangible sign that I’m worth having taken up so much space, good air, moist matter and caloric energy as I have for the past year.
What do I have to show for 2013? I really can’t lay my hands on anything to show you that would justify those costs to planet Earth.
At one time in years past, I’d have pointed to some kind of produced work “in images and pixels.” Books, essays, photographs in magazines, and even Fragments–which seemed then like it had a point. Those would have been my evidence I was worth my keep.
I’ve laid my assets on the table, such as they are, these past few weeks. What I have is not nothing. But it is raw; elemental; embryonic. Not ready for prime time.
It is a lot, really–should I be able to wield my 65 years of biology-watching into the words I hear in my own head. I have things to say worth listening to, and they are submerged in wasted effort and distraction.
At the end of 2014 I could show you:
â–¶ More photo-notecards, housed in such an accessible place that they can be ordered from a agency that will print and ship as needed.
â–¶ Books: the two I have written whose message has not become old news, whose appeal could persist if I’d get back to promoting them like I did when they were newly-published. I could resurrect the same speaking venues with the message improved by a better understanding now of my voice and purpose.
â–¶ And another book: the one I was putting together in Scrivener two years ago–the one I was calling “A Floyd County Almanac.” I’ve come back to revisit that again, and have not yet suffered sufficient delusion to think the world needs this one more book. But I’ve not quite laid it in the grave yet, either.
â–¶ The blog: I dunno. Look at me. I’m catharting (yes, now it IS a word) rather than actually hunkering down and getting work done on any of these 2014 resolutions. And for what?
The blogosphere is dead air. But it has been the only writer’s notebook I’ve ever known. So I blunder on.
I added ads back to the page a couple of months ago, thinking maybe that might serve as an incentive to rekindle enthusiasm and ensure regularity. So far, that’s paying my monthly hosting fees. It works out to a rate of return something like $0.35 a day in exchange for hours spent curating topics that interest me and then doing the morning writing. Granted, some of these morning jots might be nuclei for bits of the new book, so not a total waste of time.
What I need on the blog here, for my own purpose, is more structure. Maybe. I’ve been thinking about a regular weekly rotation of topics Monday through Friday. Maybe pick three, and post three times a week. In theory, it would help me plan.
So, dear diary, that’s where I am. Thanks for listening.