Friday, August 21, 2015

Up all night and another blog opened

"Did you stay up all night again?" my husband asks me. If I had need to answer, that yes I had, he would not have asked me, for I am sure my eyes are rightly red. I am drinking coffee now. I drank Chinese black tea all night.

"Mhmmmm," I answer, brewing another pot of coffee, for I've almost done the last.

"What on earth were you doing?" he eyes my laptop, the stacks of books on the table, old notes I have gone through, and the open lap-top on the table.

"Writing, reading," I say.

I sometimes stay up all night. Especially if I feel like writing. Partially, because it is the only time with two children under five I have to spare, and the rest of the ways, because that is when I am too tired to overthink myself.

I know my husband doesn't like it, because I am a terribly feindishly devlishly mean kind of person, when I don't sleep enough and I've had too much coffee, but he knows I want to be finished with this book---and the other one I am actually being paid to write---this year.
When you write for a living for others, writing for yourself and what interests you, well making time for that is hard.

I have been writing this kind of story for a long time. A work of fiction based on Irish mythology and set in the late bronze age/early iron age of ireland, since I was, like twelve. Nothing related to Oman at all. I never get far and then pick apart my words and critisize my story-line and stop for a while and then go back to it and do the same all over again.

My father (and my husband) tease me about never finishing anything of my own work.

My paintings, a pile of unfinished but mostly-done oils, lean up against one wall.

A half-embroidered abaya hangs on a coat-rack, and waits for another sleeve to be done.

Several old journals and boxes of papers were presented to me by my father when I was in Canada for me to pick through. Indeed, I carried a whole suitcase of books back to Oman with me.

I know they've been on my back forever to finish this story, and set it all down, so even if it is utter rubbish and not perfectly researched, I've decided to write it all out so they can read it and fix it later.

So I have another blog { http://dechtiremotherofcuchulain.blogspot.com/ }if you'd kindly like to read it and give some constructive criticism and bug me to the ends of the earth if I don't get down at least twelve chapters by the end of this year, like one or two a month.

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