Friday, April 25, 2008

gah

With all the juggling between three days of lectures at AIM on direct marketing, brand valuations, predictive modeling and such, along with the usual project workloads (launching a new restaurant, consulting for internet companies, prepping for fall-holiday campaigns, generating leads and pitching to new clients), I am usually close to braindead, creatively, when I get home. Not in the sense that I cannot enjoy time with my lovely pregnant wife and "Love And Berry"-addicted daughter, I can and do, with sense of humor intact. But when everything quiets down and I have a moment to myself, all the discipline in the world delivers the smallest amount of words. My writing has bogged down.

It's easy to list rationalizations: fatigue, humidity, distractions, disengagement with subject matter. I put myself on a self-imposed story-a-day regimen - it worked for a couple of days, producing a couple of defensible stories, but when the demands of business spilled into my disciplined writing time (as a business owner, I have "homework"), I could not focus on short fiction, much more the novel.

I despise my turtle-pace. It's back to guerilla writing.

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