Shelley, Also Known as Shirley

February 13, 2010

“To write well, to write passionately, to be less inhibited, to be warmer, to be more self-critical, to recognize the power of as well as the force of lust, to write, to love.” ———John Cheever (from The Journals of John Cheever)

Been back from my residency in Vermont for two weeks now. Ooof, talk about withdrawal. Luckily, Ted made me dinners for the first two nights I was home (he was trying to ease me back into the real world; the world where three meals a day aren’t cooked for me and a world without continual access to a fully stocked salad bar).

It’s been a strange transition back. I had to jump into teaching again– though (sadly? happily?) only two classes. I guess sadly since It means less money. But I’ll be teaching a one night a week class for 5 weeks in March.

So I get back to teaching– two great classes, thank heavens. Get back to Ted. Get back to the kitties. Yes, Hermia is STILL alive–18 years 10 months, despite a few scares while I was gone and then one REALLY big scare last week involving too much insulin. Luckily she pulled through but not before I had said my teary goodbyes. A good dress rehearsal I suppose.

And now the writing. Getting back to it  has been tough. Mostly, I hope, because I’ve been so busy getting caught up with school. But there’s also just this whole transition back, out of that world where I had no responsibilities and could read for two hours and then write for two hours then read for two hours then write again.

Still, I came back with such incredible feedback and ideas about the book and more chapters. I’m ready to move forward with it. I also have decided i’m going to take a break every once in a while and write something short– a short story, an essay, a poem– in order to feel that sense of accomplishment more often. I miss that. I mean, I feel some sense of accomplishment when I finish a chapter or a really great scene or description or even line, but I miss the feeling of being done with something.

This week I revised a short story from several years ago; actually, I turned it into a short-short, in the hopes of sending it out to places. And i’ve got an idea for a short essay that I want to work on too– it involves this book, Shelley, Also Known As Shirley, a memoir by Shelley Winters (incidentally, it’s a book I first read when I was eleven. Do with that what you will…).

Is this procrastination? Is this going to keep me from my novel? Only time will tell, but I’m hoping not. I hope it will get me back into a regular routine of writing– like I had in Vermont. No make that a regular routine of CREATING.

I miss my Vermont friends. The snow. The fresh baked bread and chickpeas at the salad bar. But i’m glad to be home, too.