We are what we create rings true, and thus discounts whether it actually is.
I’d probably be much more successful if I could apply my need for control and general insanity to this blog, but the reality is that it’s one of the few corners of my life that has eclipsed those demons.
“You haven’t read ALL the important books on writing, so you’re probably missing a few crucial insights that all other writers are sitting on like golden fucking eggs.” And other dumb stuff I tell myself, after the jump.
After lamenting a deficit of “normal” compliments in my life, I’ve comforted myself by concluding that–while I’ll never be the Marsha Brady of the world–at least people are forced to go off autopilot when they address me.
With some larger life changes on the horizon, and less overall safety in the new, I’ve been gravitating towards self-protection over endless personal divulgence.
“Eye-fucking on the subway is strongly encouraged: today, tomorrow, and always.” And more wise words from me to myself, after the jump…
On Sunday I Instagrammed a cry for help in the form of a drab coconut popsicle, the sad caption reading: my only friend. This dramatic statement is far from the truth, but in that moment, as everyone in NYC appeared deeply invested in something called the World Cup with their pals, and I sat alone in my apartment clogged with snot and overwhelming angst, it felt true.
Head honcho Matt Zoller Seitz continues his reign over my brain/heart with some expertly crafted (natch) words of advice for us baby writers.
A recent episode of GIRLS got me thinking about the problem with relying too heavily on the Nora Ephron maxim “everything is copy” when we write.