Divisions and Precisions

I felt completely lost today.

I felt completely lost today. I honestly didn't know what I should be doing. I spent the morning goofing around on the computer, then Mer took me out to lunch along with Julie and Brandon. I was grateful on many counts--not the least because I didn't feel so lost.

Then I went to the library. In addition to a book on feminism, I got a couple of novels to read before NaNoWriMo starts. If this next novel is anything like the last one, I'll end up reading exclusively non-fiction again. Or I don't know. Things might be completely different.

I realized today part of why writers have so many superstitions and routines (why a lot of artists do, really). What we do is so unpredictable, so irrational at times, it's like we come up with explanations for everything--not entirely unlike the development of mythology in a society, come to think of it.

So, when I insist on listening to nothing but Broadway and movie score finales while writing the last chapter of my novel (like I did yesterday), I'm following a long and hallowed tradition that leads all the way back to the likes of Icarus.

(Currently, I'm trying to get my hands on some good, classic bluegrass music, a la the O Brother, Where Art Thou soundtrack. There's a short story percolating around in my brain that's set near my old family homestead in the Appalachians...)