waking up in the morning
showering
checking myself out in the mirror
sitting in math class
trying to do my math homework
when it’s time to eat
seeing somebody attractive
arriving to a party
Trying to seduce someone when I’m drunk
When someone unattractive tries to hookup with me
Than all of the many
Stars in the sky,
For it sparkles with Annie —
It glows with the light
Of the love of my Annie —
With the thought of the light
Of the eyes of my Annie.
| — | Edgar Allan Poe, from “For Annie” (via the-final-sentence) |
n. the realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore—that although you thought you were following the arc of the story, you keep finding yourself immersed in passages you don’t understand, that don’t even seem to belong in the same genre—which requires you to go back and reread the chapters that you had originally skimmed through to get to the good parts, only to learn that all along you were supposed to choose your own adventure.
From “25 Ways To Be A Happy Writer,” at terribleminds.
I might quibble with a couple things here - when you’re a professional writer, it’s perfectly acceptable to take a job for the money to keep baby formula in the cupboard - but my soul says “amen” to 97.3% of this.
Here’s a commentary track I recorded, which will be tacked onto the end of the upcoming audiobook for NOS4A2 (read by @totallykate Kate Mulgrew). There are a few spoilers here, but nothing too terrible. I talk about favorite audiobooks, the hard work of mothering, the influence of my own ma’, my brother’s (hilarious) upcoming novel DOUBLE FEATURE, and the unexpected influence of the late Wolfram Kadinsky.
NOS4A2, you will be mine!















