Happy Fourth!

Yes, yes, I know. I’m hopelessly late. But this whole past week -- with the holiday in the middle – was so hopelessly out of balance that I’m seeing it as a “holiday week.”

Before I forget, Howard Zinn offers some suggestions on celebrating July 4th – Put Away the Flags. (Thank you, Andy, for the link!)

Here in Willimantic, we celebrated the 4th by attending the annual “boombox” parade (me), watching a hotdog-eating competition on TV (Movie Dictator), taking a quick trip to West Hartford (both of us), and then settling to watch some quality British tv drama – only to be interrupted by a… power outage. That’s right, for several hours, Willimantic was in the dark. Also, it was raining.

The following afternoon I drove to Boston (for a writers’ group meeting and a party the next day). Being in Boston felt strange – as if I weren’t really supposed to be there. I half-expected to run into an acquaintance who’d say “What are you doing here? Haven’t you just moved away?” What’s more, Boston felt crowded and hectic, which is something I normally like. But this time, I thought it had an edge of desperation to it.

I’m sure it’s all in my head. During the visit, I was asked many times whether I liked Connecticut. And I said yes and I meant it. Movie Dictator asks me this too: Am I not longing to see some tall buildings? Wouldn’t it be great to have a million of little shops on every street? Normally, yes. Normally, I’m a city girl, pining for bigger and better cities. But for now, I’m kind of loving Connecticut with its rural roads and farms everywhere. I love how green and peaceful it is. I love the lakes. I love the tiny town centers. Somehow that’s what I’m craving now. The quietness. The space. Maybe that’s what I need to quell my never-ending anxiety. And to write.

After my last post, a couple of friends asked whether it was a good idea to admit that I hadn’t written much later. What if I my editor and/or agent read this? Would this get me in trouble? Would they think less of me?

After some thinking, I decided it was probably okay. First of all, I’m sure both my editor and agent have better things to do than read this blog. Second of all, I haven’t missed any deadlines. Even better: having made the admission, I promptly started writing! First thing in the morning, while still in bed. (By the way, there’s an article in the latest Poets and Writers about writing in bed.) I try not to worry about quality and just move forward with the novel. I have this crazy and possibly unrealistic plan to finish the first draft by September 1st. I'm not anywhere near the end at this point. Can I do it? I don’t know. But I’m going to try.