A Spork in the Road

Optimism afflicts me in both my worlds, web development and fiction writing. The flip side of optimism is, of course, despair: when I realize it’s impossible to reach the dizzying heights to which I so casually aspired at the beginning of a project, my brain siphons away every happy chemical and erases my buzz, leaving me with a creative hangover and a depressive unwillingness to finish the project and thus prove my incompetence.

Maureen McHugh charts this emotional course, from “This is the greatest idea I’ve EVER had” down to the Dark Night of the Soul, and then back out.

Tonight I opened up Chapter 2 of my novel and made the mistake of starting to reread what I wrote earlier in the summer. I feel the tendrils of despair wrapping around my lungs as I write this.

It is at this point that nail filing feels urgent. Long ignored layers of dust cry out for Pledge. Magazines beg to be stacked in chronological order.

I become painfully aware of how long it’s been since I last flossed.

I’ll say this much: writing a novel is good for personal hygiene and general tidiness.