I know how it goes. Because I want to write, or I feel obligated, and I want to feel like I do write, or something, I'm not sure how to put it, but there's a lot of good intentions involved and a lot of procrastination too. And not a lot actually gets written.

Lately, I feel like most of my writing has been in the form of tightly-written one-sentence paragraphs in neatly lined up news columns. Which I sort of like, but then I ask myself why do I do this, like really, why do I? My interest isn't so much in being a good reporter, at least, I don't think it is. I'm not sure what it is. I just tell myself I can't expect the great American novel to flow from my fingertips, so I'll sort of do this for now. And I sort of do like it. I just don't like the interviewing and worrying and stuff. And I'm not exactly sure how I feel about writing stuff when people are looking over my shoulders and stuff, though I am getting better at that.

And then I wonder what will happen when more of my writing is in the form of long, literary papers with a philosophical bent — classes start tomorrow. I've been here two weeks and I still haven't been to a class yet. And I've been letting things slip now, I think when classes start, I don't know what will happen.

Except I sort of look forward to it. I miss feeling really productive and really busy for days on end. The last time I remember a really busy streak like that was just a small window in June, maybe three weeks where I found myself stuck with about 65 hours of work a week. And even then, I mean, I didn't go home from TCBY or PartyLite and really worry about things I needed to do there. Because really, I didn't care. If I had walked into one of those jobs the next morning and been told I'd been fired, I would've considered it a blessing in disguise (a thinly veiled disguise at that).

But school and the paper aren't really like that. They both matter more to me in a big picture sense, as I guess they should. They are sort of a factor in that "rest of my life" scheme, or at least, they probably are. Who knows what that will really encompass. But right now, I'm going to assume they are, because if I start reasoning things like that to myself now, well, it's just not good. Priorities. Set them, keep them, I say (before promptly completely losing sight of them and spending hours picking lyrics to put in my AIM profile.)

But I digress. Anyway. Here's to the start of a new semester.

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Replies: 3

Posted by elissa @ 09/06/2001 08:32 PM EST

Remember, Hemmingway started with essays, and so did a lot of the other Great American Novelists.

Posted by Doug @ 09/07/2001 01:31 PM EST

... which goes to show because if you read something like In Our Time, it was written in a lot of tightly written, one sentence paragraphs in neatly lined up news columns. What was that Hemingway story? Hills Like White Elephants? Something like that. Totally tightly written &c &c &c.

Posted by shaun @ 09/09/2001 05:16 PM EST