Some people smell what they want to smell.
Hooray Friday! This one seems to have been a long time coming, but it’s here at last. Finally, I’ll be able to catch up on the rest of my life. Anyway, it’s 1:30 in the morning. I have drawn a comic and now I am tired and I don’t have 100 words to describe this comic, my process, or anything else concerning my art or my life. Happy Friday.
Throw some sautéed garlic and onions into the mix and you have the olfactory equivalent of a whole meal.
Honestly, as I was finishing this comic, the kids were in the kitchen without me, baking a cake, which they are able to do more or less on their own at this point in time. The gag came to me when they weren’t even here. They are really connoisseurs of vanilla and double it every single recipe they make, meaning the kitchen smells like a bakery when they made a half recipe of waffles. They already had churros and banana bread today, but The Man is also a sugar junkie and he gave them permission. I don’t really bake at all anymore, except for birthdays and such.
It’s too much cake. I don’t know how we survive.
This weekend was the Tucson Festival of Books, which is in its 7th year, but has apparently become the largest book festival America in that short time. This is not especially surprising, given that Tucson is one of the few places where you can schedule a fair outdoors in mid-March with the assurance that there is almost 100% chance that the weather cooperates with your plans. Who wouldn’t want to spend this weekend here, in the sun?
I didn’t really spend any money this year, primarily because I didn’t have any. In fact, I found $5 on the ground and used it to buy myself dinner. Otherwise, all I bought was a $2 unicorn button for the Girl. This year, I spent a lot more time in panels. I got my copy of Bridge to Terabithia signed by Katherine Paterson and took the kids to 2 back-to-back session with Tom Angleberger, author of The Strange Case of Origami Yoda, who is something of a superstar as far as entertaining a lecture hall full of kids goes. I also got to see Jacqueline Woodson, as well as Marilyn Nelson, both of whom were great speakers.
The book fair is always magical, although it always makes me a little wistful. When do I get to the other side of the table? It’s a busy weekend. I had to bow out of some other engagements to spend as much time as I spent there. I’m always happy to be there (at any fair, really; I like fairs a lot) but I also realize I could spend a lot more time working.
Be vewwy vewwy quiet. I’m wistening cwosewy fow the sweet sweet voice of inspiwation.
When we were kids, my brother was considered something of a math prodigy. He skipped the 9th grade to attend the Illinois Math and Science Academy and taught at the University of Illinois before he even finished his BA. While he was in college, he told me, laughingly, Paul Erdős’s statement about mathematicians being machines that turn coffee into theorems.
My brother went on to earn advanced degrees from some of the most prestigious schools in the world. On a recent visit, I mentioned that quote to him and he laughed, this time a little bitterly. He said that most mathematicians do their best work before they’re 25, and that if you haven’t had any brilliant and original thoughts in the field before 30, you’re not likely to, ever. It’s like your brain has lost same particular aspect of plasticity that allows it to uncover new truths about numbers.
That’s never been so of writers. It’s the rare author who has both a mastery of craft as well as an interesting story to tell before 30. Maybe authors don’t hit their stride until 40. It’s not at all unusual to come across an extremely talented person who didn’t even start writing until they had retired in their 60s. So age is actually an asset in this field. And I keep telling myself that. It’s not only the facility with words and the understanding of how to structure sentences, chapters, paragraphs, and stories. It’s also the vast increase in life experience: fodder to create stories. And this increases exponentially. I don’t only gain the experience of my own life. I also get the experiences of all the people I talk to, and all the characters in books I read and videos I watch.
There’s absolutely no reason for a person to feel as if they haven’t achieved enough. In the creative arts, your masterwork can still be in the future.
Nothing like a little vacation from reality to make you appreciate vacations from reality.
I love having a family, but it’s not really possible to get very much done when they’re around. People want feeding, chauffeuring, cuddling, that sort of thing. Art, for me, is an extended and quiet process. It requires long chunks of time in which to think and feel before creation even begins, and then it wants no interruption as the new work unspools.
That’s why I take writing retreats once or twice a year, sometimes with other writers, and sometimes alone. I only use the computer for work-related tasks, avoid all social media, and spend every minute I’m not writing doing something inspiring: cooking, reading, hiking. Talking about writing. It helps keep me sane. I always set a lot of rules and a lot of goals, and I usually do pretty well with both. It’s a special, sacred space and I wish I could enter into it more often.
But having a family to come home to is a beautiful thing. Even though I sometimes miss having days on end filled with nothing but writing and quiet, I would miss my family more if I didn’t have them. the The kids will be able to take care of themselves someday. Not sure about The Man, though.
You’ve got the power!
A long time coming but here it is: comics about self-affirmation and belief in your true core’s strength. The answer was right there all along.
So far this has been a good week! My friend the Owl sent me a job posting for a website looking for someone to blog about non superhero graphic novels. This is my thing! I have a deep background and many ideas to share on this subject, and I am professionally trained to write and to deconstruct texts. Yet, knowing about the process of reading open calls for submission triggers my fear of rejection. What if, despite my knowledge that I am perfect for a job, I fail? What does this say about my belief in my abilities, if I cannot even escape the slush pile? This is the sort of thing that tears me up and prevents me from putting forth the effort.
But I put forth the effort. And I made the cut. My little essays are going up as guest posts and if everything works out I will probably get my own column. To write about non superhero graphic novels. Which is a thing I would be doing anyway.
Another fun thing that just happened was the advent of my 100th follower on this blog. Hello! Everything’s coming up Dragon!
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