I’m speaking at Press Publish in Portland, Oregon March 28, 2015. This is a WordPress conference–and will focus on blogging–and my talk will focus on how comments on Jadepark saved my life. In more ways than one.
Would love to see you there, if you’re in Portland. Attendance does require registration, but you can use the coupon code CHRISTINE40 to get 40% off.
And I’m delighted to point you to my speaker spotlight over at Press Publish.
It’s been amazing coming out of anonymity. And I’d love to see you in Portland.
Thinking of what to blog. Coming up short. Any of you have any questions about writing or otherwise, you’d like me to address?
I am teaching. Boy, I am exhausted. But I had a fantastic first day of class. Now back to vegging out in recovery.
went to sleep, woke up the next day and all was better. i even went running, and that felt good too.
but the holocaust museum shooting? tragic.
I KEEP WANTING TO HIT THE DELETE KEY. I deleted a total of 1,945 words out of the novel yesterday, and I attribute it to the bitter resentful anger with which I’ve sat at the office (an office which has nothing to do with writing) WAITING TO GO HOME. Seriously, I am dependent on someone else for a ride home and IT IS DRIVING ME NUTS.
Today, despite the extra time at hand, I have banned myself from the novel manuscript because indeed, I know that I would just do the same: I’d probably delete an entire chapter at this rate.
Why is it that I aim my fury at my novel manuscript, much like cutters aim their rage inward at themselves, manifesting in behavior like cutting and slicing away at their own skin to release that pain? I am no longer a cutter, but in this way I am still a cutter: the emotional path is the same, and I cut away at the novel, which is really an extension of my body. Instead of just fucking getting pissed.
I cannot STAND it when people make me WAIT–as if their time is eons more important than my own. Actually–it’s not “as if”–they must truly believe that what they have to do is more important than anything I could be doing. Sometimes I get an apologetic shrug but if I were to make a point of this, communicate my mood, I’ll get a rebuff, I know it.
Maybe it’s my week off from exercise–I’ll go running tomorrow and see if my mood improves, if my teeth ungrit, if my rage subsides.
Ha. This is the post I was writing about all the submissions I was sending out to various litmags a few months ago. I’d spend $17.29 thus far, and titled the post (and then wrote nothing else).
Believe me, I’ve spent waaaaaay more than $17.29 in postage since. And waaay more than that in contest entry fees.
I am going through all the unfinished blog posts…this blog post only had this picture and the above title, “reverso.” Uh. Dated November 30, 1999. When I had hair long enough for a ponytail. Wait. Did I have this blog in 1999? No.
Anyway. That’s all. I’m just cleaning out the old blog posts but loathe to delete them ruthlessly.