Novel break. Full stop. I wrote one piece of flash fiction written on my regular Monday night writer’s meet up, but other than that I resisted the itch to write. I know myself by now, and I know that I need to build up more of that itchiness until I can’t stand it anymore. That’s the momentum and excitement I need behind my sails before I can begin again. I need rest. I need boredom.
Writers don’t often say how much of a motivation boredom is, but it’s a huge one for me. My brain starts building up avenues for escape, with stories as scaffolding. Sometimes I think that boredom is the main reason I start to write all.
Also, I only really started thinking deeply about colonization when I started writing fantasy. Maybe it’s because it involves deconstructing and rebuilding worlds. It has me thinking about what culture is mine, and where the edges get blurry. I have a bunch of hazy thoughts that require a full post to explore better in the future.
This time of year brings back thoughts of Ireland, and huddling in the passage tomb at Newgrange trying to imagine what it looked like when the sun hit it just right at solstice. The turning of the year from darkness to lighter days. This far North, you get it. You wake up in the dark, and go home in the dark. The days compresses down into slivers of what they were until you can barely stand it.
It didn’t hit me until then, standing in the tomb with my back pressed to those ancient stones, that the pre-historic people who built it could not have known that the sun would come back – not for sure. They may have observed the stars traveling through the sky, but could not have imagined the inevitability of the physics that hurls our little ball of rock around the sun. To them, there were no guarantees the winter would never end. Perhaps if you did not appease the Gods correctly, winter would stay forever and the days would continue to dwindle into nothing. How terrifying that must have been.
There’s comfort in knowing that the sun will return. That summer WILL come, no matter what we do. The world keeps on turning, oblivious to what we might do.
Bad days pass, and there will be good days again, even though the winter seems dark and endless.
- The Crown’s Fate by Evelyn Skye
- City of Heavenly Fire (book 6) by Cassandra Clare
- Forest of a Thousand Lanterns by Julie Dao
- Want by Cindy Pon
- The Changeling by Victor LaValle