My life seems so unrecorded these days. No real blogging. Hardly any writing-in-my-journal. No pouring out my soul into a juicy roman-a-clef, or into GalPal #1's willing ear, since our rushed conversations now take place only when she is on the bus shuttling between work and daycare to pick up her eight-month old daughter (which means lots of ambient nose, lots of shouted "WHAT?"s, and inadvertent hang-ups.)
Not that I am complaining, mind you. My best galpals - married with children all of them - are as emotionally availalble as they can be given their wailing bundles of joy. Although I wouldn't mind having a nice galpal without kids so that that they have LOTS of uninterrupted time to listen to me prattle on about my single and fancy-free life or to go out on the town for girly drinks. I will complain about the fact that it does seem awfully hard to make new galpals at this stage in life, and believe me I have been trying. That is because GalPal #2 is moving AND I DESPERATELY NEED SOMEONE TO REPLACE HER. Apply within! Low pay but great benefits!
Meanwhile, unrecorded as it may be, life steams forward anyway. The "L" word has been making a few guest appearances in my life lately. This is rather frightening. The "L" word has been nothing but trouble in the past. Yet there it is, gunning for a recurring role. "I swear, this time I won't eff everything up! This time, it's all gonna end up being sunsets and roses and a lovely wedding on Orcas Island, two beautiful children, and a long life together full of sex that never gets boring! None of that pesky drama that launched your literary career!"
So we're steamrolling along in that department, either to bliss or oblivion, it's yet to be seen. Meanwhile, my career and writing life are in a strange sort of liquid susension. Things are moving, slowly. And I am trying to be OK with that slow thing.
What I've realized is that for the last ten years, I was driving towards the publication of my first book. I had no idea what would happen after that. Frankly, I never even really believed I would publish a book. I hoped that if I did, of course, this book would make a meteoric rise to the top of the charts and that all I would have to do was be a Writer for the rest of my life.
I knew intellectually that that wasn't true of course. But it's different to know something in theory and experience it in real life. So, armed with a new understanding of what it means to be a published novelist, my life, like a big ocean liner, is making a slow turn on the high seas. It's heading away from the life of a corporate wage slave who writes on the side, striving to publish her first book and wait for the royalties to roll in. Been there, done that (except for the royalties part). Now we're pointing towards a more creative working life and new types of writing projects, but they are still hazy and obscured in distant clouds.
Good god, enough of that metaphor.
On a final note, I'd like to say that I do plan soon to add a blogroll soon and to link to all you kind people who are linking to me (if there are any of you still out there). I know I've never been the most community-minded blogger but I do appreciate your support, even if I've disappeared into the ether lately.