"...Stay Drunk on Writing So Reality Cannot Destroy You."

Ray Bradbury said that, and I like it.

I do get drunk on writing. Painting isn't the same. I become a bit starchy, and frown a lot more, especially when my little treasures don't sell. Writing transports me. I resist returning to reality.

So I believe I will have to get back to that fifth book in the New Year. Which leads me to wonder why anyone else would be interested in that.

Before we all became so jaded about the publishing industry, there was such a sense of belonging and excitement reading writers' blogs. I was hungry to hear how others were doing, what their feelings were. (I also made a few new friends I've come to count on, some of whom are actually published.) But I believe there's been a distinct shift in thinking. It's tedious to hear, once more, that an agent hasn't been found, or that an agent was found but is finding the book a bit of a hard-sell. To sum up: nothing is happening. Who wants to read that on a regular basis? Masochists most of us are, but why make things worse?

People are split into two camps, it seems, judging by comments on other sites:

Those who love uplifting blogs, where the writer has just sold their first novel, and there's a mention of foreign rights, a TV movie, perhaps. And we know this blogger, don't we? Followed her all last year, didn't we? And now we can share in a little of the triumph.

And there are those who frankly enjoy a bit of misery. Hearing how terribly so-and-so was rejected, and how bitter he is about the whole process. Never going to write again. (Or worse, he's going to self-publish.) People so like reading this sort of thing, and it makes them feel less alone with their own frustrations, and possibly a whole lot better.

But blogs that are neither triumphant nor terribly, terribly poignant are just plain blah, let's face it.  And that's where mine is now. The only new thing  is that my agent (who has been in poor health) wrote that she is 'ready to get back in step and get this book (The Place of Dreams) sold, for heaven's sake!'

And so, in this last week of 2011, I wanted to let you know where my head is. I wanted to thank you for your readership and your comments over the past three years, despite the blahs. Oh, I've been gung-ho and rhapsodic at times, but Reality kicked in and now I need to re-immerse myself in the writing so that it can't destroy me.

My wish for all of us in 2012 is that we all get drunk together on our writing. And screw reality.

Thanks for the tip, Mr. Bradbury.

Christopher Buckley's Homage to Christopher Hitchens

Insightful and moving. Christopher Hitchens might have written it for himself.

http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/newsdesk/2011/12/postscript-christopher-hitchens.html

Christopher Eric Hitchens (13 April 1949 – 15 December 2011)

Goodbye, Christopher.


We’ll miss you.



“We are all atheists about most of the gods humanity has ever believed in. Some of us just go one god further.”

- Richard Dawkins (1941-)