Interlude - An Apology to No One
Forgive me, Daddy, for I have sinned. I started this blog in part as a recollection of The US THEY Tour (2019) but I was also trying to hold myself to a regular writing practice. Ad you can tell by the date stamp my “daily” intention quickly turned to weekly and then there was a minor 6-week gap between entries. This is what some people refer to as “process”.
I’m not a banker. I have a very difficult time getting up early and I have an especially difficult time getting up early and doing something. My typical morning is waking up at an hour that, if I were to teleport fully dressed to my car in that moment, I would be arriving at work on time. …five more minutes. Despite a twenty year history as a runner now I have never been one of those pre-dawn joggers discovering corpses in the cold open of Law & Order. The way I see it they’ll still be dead in the early evening.
A consistent writing habit is something I long to develop. I floss, for fuck’s sake, I should be able to stick to a habit that doesn’t make me bleed in the sink and gets flecks of I’m-not-totally-sure-what on the mirror. I can commit to something — it’s the “first thing in the mornings” that I can’t seem to muster myself for. And before bed? Well, as long as no one wants to do anything with me that works out great, but one hiccup and the house of cards falls and stops me from writing the next House of Cards.
No, my writing comes in fits and starts. Eureka strikes and I nurse that wound as long as it takes me to bleed out a draft of something. Then there is the bruise yellow drafting stage where I show off my sutures to all my friends and get them to sign the bandage. I take those notes, maybe do one more pass and then voila I’m healed and my creativity lays dormant until the next frenzy.
So I am apologizing, mostly to no one as I consistently overestimate my audience size and I am guessing zero folks are reading this as I’m writing it and if you love me enough to go back and binge this blog you’ll be dangerously forgiving. Thank you; I’m sorry.