This week I set aside some older projects (the re-writing, the obsessive tinkering) and started something new. In my head, the idea is brilliant; on the screen, it's troublesome. But nothing smart, sensitive, or lasting comes with ease--and if it does, I don't want to know about it.
In January, I graduated from the VCFA MFA in Writing program with Liza Nash Taylor, who is just arriving in Scotland to begin her month-long retreat at Hawthornden Castle. She promises updates on her blog, and I don't know about you but I'm up for some drafty Scottish castle literary intrigue.
I'm not even a first-time author, but appreciated this advice just the same.
It's short and sweet today. I'm staring down the barrel of another big work week, wishing that the reality of winery work was closer aligned with the ideal: sunshine, happy people, glasses of wine. (But the ideal is, of course, a utopia that doesn't exist. There's a happy thought to keep you warm at night.)