Another overcast, Radiohead day in Southern California. The skies are dingy like an old sweatshirt and desperately want to open up and rain on us. I doubt that will happen, though. You'd think that after a childhood spent enduring Ohio winters I would get used to this type of weather and possible enjoy the fact that there isn't snow on the ground. Instead, gray clouds just make me feel gloomy same as they always have.
The beard is growing back as I make a concerted effort to finish this script I've been working on for several months. I though that with the completion of the marathon I would be able to dive right back into this dark script with no trouble. The decompression from not feeling pressure to run every day has taken a little longer to get over than I anticipated. I forget that the constant running and fund raising gave me a purpose.
Steve begs me not to continue running, something about not being able to walk when I'm in my 60's. Still, I'm already thinking about the possibility of doing another half marathon next year. He's going to kill me, God bless him.
The other reason it's been so difficult getting back into this new script is that my heart isn't always in it. I've given myself a deadline of the end of the year to complete it, which really means before the 24th (because we'll be travelling back east for the holidays). I am dedicated to starting my book in the new year. I even started a short story just to see if I could complete some kind of prose that didn't involve basements or movie reviews. Not only did I complete a first draft, but I've kind of become obsessed with the rewrite. This is a first for me. Any story I've ever written was always a first draft and left in a folder or a drawer somewhere. That I'm actually excited to revise the first draft (and willing to change the context of the story) is a good sign. The year of writing Basement Song entries has paid off.
If I had just been writing the Basement Songs for thunderbolt, I never would have gone back and edited them. Instead they would have been the kind of stream of consciousness ramblings my daily entries (daily, ha!) have become famous for (famous, ha!). Looks like the fear of being labeled a hack by thousands of Popdose readers has brought me full circle to the lessons I was taught by Denman and some of my other English teachers. The trick now is to bring the voice I've developed in the basement and apply it to whatever I write. It may take some rejections, but I'm willing to give it a go.