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  • Kimberly Hula 1:27 pm on May 10, 2012 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: consultation, fiction, novel,   

    All Good Things Are Belated in the Retelling 

    It feels fortunate to admit that I’ve been lazy in posting.  Only because THINGS ARE HAPPENING!  The things in point deal with writing and the momentum built from this campaign so I haven’t much excuse, but I am terribly excited to detail my major life changes as I attempt to catch up!  My calculations show I’m 10 adventures behind in documentation.  So, without further ado – the start of my campaign to be better organized and due diligence to Club 52:

    This week found me grumpy, uncertain and in something of an existential plight.  I’ve always been a big advocate of the notion that inspiration lies within, but some days find my optimistic mind-store closed and I try to compensate with the next best thing: drawing inspiration from others.  This is a slippery slope.  Too often I mistake credit with competition.  That’s to say, I look at someone like my dear friend Emmie whose right arm might as well be a paint brush for all the beauty that her mere handwriting produces and think, “Emmie does what she loves.  She has it all figured out.”  And even though I’m truly awed by and happy for her, I allow my own insecurities to consume me.  Enough for me to change the tempo and begin to think, “Why am I not creating?  What do I do?”  And on particularly murky days, an insipid, “Is there anything special to me?”

    This is the self-talk we’d sooner caste off.  It helps no one to be so dour, and on this week, when I felt my mind race with sharp scissors, I decided to try and do something about it.

    I thought simply, “What do Iwant to do?”

    I answered, quickly, “Write a book.”

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  • jeindeer 7:26 pm on February 15, 2010 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , novel, reading, the t   

    #6: Finish Infinite Jest 

    The cover of infinite jestI tend to go through pleasure reading pretty quickly, but I’m not used to books which weigh as much as a healthy baby. Case in point: if Infinite Jest were in fact a healthy baby, by the time I finished reading, it would be able to play peek-a-boo and drink from a sippy cup. Seven long months. At almost 1,100 pages of tiny, end note-strewn text, it has enough physical and emotional bulk to justify my reading time, but it’s still been on my shelf for roughly forever. I read other books, too; I moved to New England; I started grad school; it has infinite in the name. For every week I couldn’t put it down, there was a week when the only progress I made was a couple of pages during one night’s dinner. Even then I’d gush about it to my bewildered friends—”you won’t believe how they tell time,” “I can’t believe he/she/it has first-person segments now!”—but there was always a new revelation to digest and, just as important,  wonder why I was so effected.

    By six months I was in up to my neck, and there was still a novella’s worth of content left. I was humbled. I just needed to finish it. After paring down what remained a couple of times, decided that this would be an adventure. I’d just sit down and finish Infinite Jest. Since the story takes place in Boston—and makes frequent mention of the green line—I decided to up the ante and read the last hundred pages while riding the T. I have a monthly pass, so I don’t get charged for individual rides. I’d just start in the morning and ride branches of the green line until I was finished.

    (More …)

     

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