A random number of things make a random post

[hawkwing_lb]

My poetry brain seems to have hit some kind of critical mass lately. I'm leaking the stuff. It's weird. I've never been prolific, poetry-wise: I haven't written poetry on a more-than-occasional basis since before my Leaving Cert. (I am still unconvinced as to its merits, however.)

At the same time, writing prose is like pulling teeth. I keep wanting prose with both the rhythm and loft of poetry and the chiselled-gem heft of the very best writing: line of direction so clean it cuts, and sentences both lucid and muscular.

And scenes and paragraphs that don't just hang around making me wonder what the hell are you doing?

I am so not there. Yet.

---

From completely spazzing out about the coming year, I've slipped sideways into something like optimism. I'm good at this study stuff, frightening as it is to actually admit that out loud (fate has a perverse sense of humour, on occasion). Exercise makes me even better: this feeling of clear-headed competence makes a wonderful change.

It helps that I know I won't have to get the 0700 train. I may not even have to call hiatus on the writing, entirely.

So you know what? I can do this thing. This is going to be a good year. I have a good feeling.

Comments

[desperance.livejournal.com]

At the same time, writing prose is like pulling teeth. I keep wanting prose with both the rhythm and loft of poetry and the chiselled-gem heft of the very best writing: line of direction so clean it cuts, and sentences both lucid and muscular.

If it helps any, I was well impressed with some of those first lines you just cited. To be sure, an opening gets worked over more than anything else, but nevertheless. There's some good stuff there.

PS

[desperance.livejournal.com]

Now all you need to do is write the rest of 'em... *g*

[hawkwing-lb.livejournal.com]

From you? That means a lot.

(PS: I'm still learning how to finish things. *g*)