Home > writing talk. > On the eve, under pressure.

On the eve, under pressure.

The holidays have the dubious honor of perennially derailing what momentum I might have had coming down the stretch. Notions of work, of general activity—these are dismissed with a flippant wave of the hand. After all, there is holiday shopping you must consider. Then wrapping presents (this year I put all gifts into decorative bags; with age comes wisdom). Then you have five or six days before the next year rolls around and, really . . . isnt that enough? You are far too preoccupied with what to do to celebrate it—do you go out? stay in? compromise and host a party? what if Y2K was a decade off? the Mayans premature?

On top of that there are tens of thousands of college bowl games. Who are you to miss the Exxon-Mobil Oil Spill Bowl? The NFL playoffs are revving up. The NBA is doing something or other too. There is much to watch on the ol boobtube, enough to keep you in a semiconscious state of lethargic indifference until, in my case, university’s spring semester comes highballing into my field of vision, or, in your case perhaps, the boss calls wondering why you havent come in to work for three days.

So. With a four hours remaining in the 2010, I decided to shake all this off.

Two entries back I commended and advertised my friends Pete and Dan and their write365 projects. Once more, you ought to peruse what they have uploaded to this point. Much of it is good now and when the ball starts rolling tomorrow, I anticipate even better work. Joining the ranks is Jon Nathan Raby, a standup fella who is not only a good writer but a productive one; he’s completed a novel, which is more admirable than I can express properly. (Which might be a reason I havent written one, come to think of it . . .) At any rate, look him up too.

Because three friends are throwing hats in the ring, I might as well join them. The very least? There’s a support system in place: feedback, criticism, encouragement. It cant hurt to try, I figure, regardless of how daunting a task it is. I have hopes to at length apply and take part in an MFA program for writing; a diverse and extensive portfolio might help.

There we have it, then. Four hours until 2011 kickstarts. Four hours until I commit myself to a year of trial and error, for which I have meager plans, ideas, and those I do have, I feel, are dimly known yet. C’est la vie. So be it. Every day: new material, the length of which does not matter, the quality of which should. Buena suerte.

See you on the other side of the calendar, folks.

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