I wish I could make this post into a bunch of CGI word-warriors. Madness? THIS. IS. WRITIIIIIING.
The day started tense, got frustrating in the middle, and then mostly worked itself out at the end. I have two of my five articles in, and a new (to me) mountain bike to take with me to school--not that that's writing related, but it was a stressor hanging over my head.
I also finished two more essays from the never diminishing stack, this time from the last issue of Creative Nonfiction. I've had a block about reading it because the next essay is about killing starlings. Why not just write about stepping on hummingbirds next? Oh sure, drowning kittens is off the table, but starlings? Have at it.
The first two essays failed to knock me on my ass, as others have of late. They were both good, but too heavy in message for my taste. It's interesting, because in both cases, I consider the author to have an overt motive (and maybe that's what I am responding to): in the first, she's a psychiatrist and the essay is all about how she has thoughts about horses and child-rearing that aren't bogged down by an unhealthy obsession with sex like everyone else's and in the second, the author is chemically-sensitive and uses the delicacy of butterflies and their habitat to highlight how chemicals are killing everything beautiful. I will call these the Expert writers, whereas I hope to be more of an expert Writer.