Yesterday, I spent too many hours working on the post about memory for Living Out Loud. As an experiment, I had started the day before with a “mind map”. It was suggested in a radio interview featuring a writing coach.
I can’t say this tool worked for me. Rather than writing my way through to whatever needed to be written – letting the words build the piece organically – like I normally do, I ended up trying to back in to the ideas.
By the time I pressed the “publish” button, rather than enjoying what I had written, all I felt was frustration about everything I didn’t have time to include. The post I ended up with only deals with one or two of the bubbles on my stupid fucking “mind map”.
What’s worse is that I was left too exhausted to craft an acceptable ending. If I had let myself write my way to a conclusion, I’m sure a half beautiful ending would have emerged.
A bigger problem I have to face is that I need to build at least one lag day into my blogging. That is to say, the draft I start today should be revised tomorrow and again the next day before it goes online.
Will I start that process today? Apparently not since these very paragraphs are being written & posted this morning. I did just start a couple other drafts on memory. But, even veiled, they’re probably too personal to make public. Grumpy again.
p.s. Last night I dreamt of zombies. In the beginning of the dream, I had a few healthy humans with me. But by the end, I was alone. I snuck out into the suburbs barefoot wearing a long cotton nightgown. I spent most of the journey hiding in bushes – belly to the soil – trying to avoid being found. In each house, everyone I saw had already been turned into monsters. Think it’s a metaphor for the subconscious alienation of being an unmarried woman over 40?