The days are getting shorter and there’s less sun and I’m going through a depressive episode which just makes everything like cold, wet, molasses. Even my eyelids are heavy and it hurts to smile.
So I’m doing all the things one does when one is sad. And I think I should take my angst and channel it into a book. Lots of characters are angst ridden. Holden Caufield. Hal Incandenza. Esther Greenwood. I’m reading Binary Star. It is likely those people are depressed.
But I think I’ve slipped past the interesting part of being depressed, filled with witty and caustic and meaningful remarks on the futility of life, to the part of being depressed where even I don’t want to be around myself. I buy things online so I have packages coming to look forward to. That could go in a story, but it’s a pretty weak start.
So I need to write something and throw myself into that. I still have to proof-read Wolf Children. I’m getting near the end of a lotsa-feedback-first-read-through of my faerie story (thanks to my FtD online writing group). At the behest of a stranger/potential agent, I am streamlining my short story collection, but now I think I’ve streamlined too much, so I need to write at least one other five-thousand-ish word story to fill the gap.
But then naps call. And the new Wii U. And books. All I want to do is read books. Maybe I’ll take a sentence from each book I read and make a new story. Like found art. I’m not going to do that though. Copyright is too litigious. Maybe Project Gutenberg found art.
The sun is out today. I will hang laundry with it in my eyes and give myself a migraine in the hopes of a Vitamin D overdose.