I haven’t known how to blog lately.
I did not write the scene that never gets written at B’s house. The next day, sleep-deprived, I wrote it, and it turned out to be the worst thing I had written all quarter. Maybe there is a reason it never gets written.
This is a lesson I haven’t learned but keep seeing: stop making rules for yourself of what to write. Write what is easiest. Stop following the rules. And making up new “rules” doesn’t count. I don’t know if this is a lesson everyone needs to learn, but I have learned the converse.
I guess this means I have to stop worrying about what kinds of comparisons are “the right” kinds of comparisons. I started a train of thought today in which a soul was like a child who wouldn’t eat and I just let myself have the thought without stepping on it because it was a bad comparison. Sometimes, the only way out is through piles and piles of bad poetry.