Burnt out & exhausted
First of all, I love this quote so I had to share. I saw it this morning in the Evene newsletter. (I read Evene every day to try to stay on top of my French. I also read the French version of the Chocolate & Zucchini blog, b/c I also love to cook!! When I am not falling over from exhaustion, that is. Another way I stay on top of my French is by opening my snail mail and discovering publishing contracts that are entirely en francais! That's a really, really good way to stay on top of your French: "Hm. Interesting. What the fuck does this say -- besides 'sign here' ????") Anyway, the quote:
Rien n'est plus dangereux qu'une idée quand on n'en a qu'une. (Paul Claudel)
It means: Nothing is more dangerous than an idea when you only have one.
I am so burnt out and exhausted that every single thing I look at fills me with anxiety and a sense of despair, panic, even a little mild rage -- but, as always, I try to direct that at myself. "Why have you fucked up your life like this?? Change, change, change, Marilyn!" Crap. It never stops. I'm always thinking there's something incredibly important about "being here" that I'm not grasping; that I'm not using to my best advantage.
My latest incredibly important thing that I'm trying to grasp about being here and use to my best advantage is the idea of the multidimensional self; i.e., simultaneous selves, probable selves, counterparts, the dream self, and probable realities. Or perhaps "re-incarnational selves" also, but viewed through the lens of time being non-linear and existing all at once. Always trying to tap into more of myself so that I can learn something and take my life to a more rewarding expression and experience of NOW.
This stuff has fascinated me for decades, but now it has suddenly come front & center on my plate again. Mostly b/c I feel like I've taken my life down a sort of dead-end alley here and I don't want to be going down this alley. I want to turn around, go back out, & go some other way. Obviously, these feelings are tied into having just completed the final revisions on Freak Parade. I know that. And I know I'm exhausted. But also b/c of finishing the project, I came up for air, too, and suddenly looked around and said, "Why is this my life? Why am I here?" and so then I think there is probably something VASTLY AMAZING about why I'm here so I need to ferret that out, you know? Discover just what that is and then better incorporate whatever it is I discover into my NOW. (Damn it!)
[This just in: My groundhog is back!!! Yay!! Spring is really here.]
I guess part of my anxiety is trying to learn how to believe in myself, you know? I wish I could always be on my own side, 24/7. I finish a book that means a lot to me and my first thought is that no one will buy it. And Jay got sort of exasperated with me and said, "Why on earth are you saying that?"
"I just don't think people are going to buy it."
"Of course people will buy it; people buy your books all the time."
Okay, I guess I know that. And I also know that a heck of a lot of people buy my out of print books, used. (I will refrain from talking about royalties that I would like to enjoy!!) I got an alert this morning that someone is looking to buy When the Night Stood Still. Which I have to say is one of my favorite novels (that I wrote, I mean.). But I do not like all the sex that's in that book. I think there is just way too much sex in it -- to an inappropriate & distracting degree, you know? That novel was specially contracted by Barnes & Noble, though, and they wanted more, more, more and still more sex. THEM: "You're being too tame."
ME: "It simply doesn't call for all this sex. I'm trying to tell a story here."
THEM: "You have a contract for an erotic novel..."
Guess who wins that round? So there is a ton of gratuitous & graphic sex in a book that actually barely needed any graphic sex at all. And I kind of pride myself on knowing when graphic sex is or isn't needed. However, it got great placement (cover facing out) in B&N stores nationwide and in Canada... so I will refrain from flailing around & wallowing in the so-called insult to my dignity. ha ha ha.
And this is something I find very weird about When the Night Stood Still, which I wrote in late 2003. It's one of my Hollywood novels. And there was a yacht featured in it. I know absolutely nothing about yachts so I had to research blueprints for them online and look at photos of the sort of "floor models". I finally chose one that I thought would be perfect for my powerful little Hollywood movie director (Jared Warren is one of my favorite characters; I loved creating him and I'd like to write a fun little novel just about him. He was such a stressed-out creep.)
So I studied the photos of the yacht very intently, I tried to internalize that yacht and I did my best to translate that into my book. And I am not kidding you, but when I saw those photos of Johnny Depp's yacht last week, it looks like it is the very same model as the one I chose. The very same layout inside. It's decorated totally differently, but it really looks like the same one. It was such a creepy feeling. Why is this so incredibly familiar to me??? Then I realized, OMG, this is just like Jared's yacht!
Another in a really, really, really long line of Johnny Depp coincidences in my world that drive me kind of bonkers. (I'm tempted to tell you about the pajama thing that happened recently but I'm thinking it's better to spare you. It is sufficient to say that the torture of inexplicable-ness never stops around here.)
Okay, gang. Guess what???? I'm gonna scoot but NOT b/c I have any editing to do! Yay! But b/c I have a new book review to write. I just finished reading Benjamin Perez's upcoming book, CUNTIONARY: Repent at Your Leisure (Or the Folklore of Hell). It is coming soon from BlazeVOX Books, NY. It is another stunner of a book, gang. I reviewed his last book, The Evil Queen: A Pornolexicology back when I was still running the EAA (2005?). That book was an unbelievable masterpiece of language -- and specifically of sex and religion and language. It was a book well worth experiencing if you love the English language (and fetish sex), but it was not for the "casual reader." And CUNTIONARY is "sort of" in the same vein & yet once more extremely difficult to categorize.
I guess I have my work cut out for me!!! Have a great Monday, gang, wherever you are and whatever you're doing (or attempting to do!). I'm on your side! Remember that! (And I'm going to try to get a little bit more on my own side, too.) See ya! Te quiero mucho.
Rien n'est plus dangereux qu'une idée quand on n'en a qu'une. (Paul Claudel)
It means: Nothing is more dangerous than an idea when you only have one.
I am so burnt out and exhausted that every single thing I look at fills me with anxiety and a sense of despair, panic, even a little mild rage -- but, as always, I try to direct that at myself. "Why have you fucked up your life like this?? Change, change, change, Marilyn!" Crap. It never stops. I'm always thinking there's something incredibly important about "being here" that I'm not grasping; that I'm not using to my best advantage.
My latest incredibly important thing that I'm trying to grasp about being here and use to my best advantage is the idea of the multidimensional self; i.e., simultaneous selves, probable selves, counterparts, the dream self, and probable realities. Or perhaps "re-incarnational selves" also, but viewed through the lens of time being non-linear and existing all at once. Always trying to tap into more of myself so that I can learn something and take my life to a more rewarding expression and experience of NOW.
This stuff has fascinated me for decades, but now it has suddenly come front & center on my plate again. Mostly b/c I feel like I've taken my life down a sort of dead-end alley here and I don't want to be going down this alley. I want to turn around, go back out, & go some other way. Obviously, these feelings are tied into having just completed the final revisions on Freak Parade. I know that. And I know I'm exhausted. But also b/c of finishing the project, I came up for air, too, and suddenly looked around and said, "Why is this my life? Why am I here?" and so then I think there is probably something VASTLY AMAZING about why I'm here so I need to ferret that out, you know? Discover just what that is and then better incorporate whatever it is I discover into my NOW. (Damn it!)
[This just in: My groundhog is back!!! Yay!! Spring is really here.]
I guess part of my anxiety is trying to learn how to believe in myself, you know? I wish I could always be on my own side, 24/7. I finish a book that means a lot to me and my first thought is that no one will buy it. And Jay got sort of exasperated with me and said, "Why on earth are you saying that?"
"I just don't think people are going to buy it."
"Of course people will buy it; people buy your books all the time."
Okay, I guess I know that. And I also know that a heck of a lot of people buy my out of print books, used. (I will refrain from talking about royalties that I would like to enjoy!!) I got an alert this morning that someone is looking to buy When the Night Stood Still. Which I have to say is one of my favorite novels (that I wrote, I mean.). But I do not like all the sex that's in that book. I think there is just way too much sex in it -- to an inappropriate & distracting degree, you know? That novel was specially contracted by Barnes & Noble, though, and they wanted more, more, more and still more sex. THEM: "You're being too tame."
ME: "It simply doesn't call for all this sex. I'm trying to tell a story here."
THEM: "You have a contract for an erotic novel..."
Guess who wins that round? So there is a ton of gratuitous & graphic sex in a book that actually barely needed any graphic sex at all. And I kind of pride myself on knowing when graphic sex is or isn't needed. However, it got great placement (cover facing out) in B&N stores nationwide and in Canada... so I will refrain from flailing around & wallowing in the so-called insult to my dignity. ha ha ha.
And this is something I find very weird about When the Night Stood Still, which I wrote in late 2003. It's one of my Hollywood novels. And there was a yacht featured in it. I know absolutely nothing about yachts so I had to research blueprints for them online and look at photos of the sort of "floor models". I finally chose one that I thought would be perfect for my powerful little Hollywood movie director (Jared Warren is one of my favorite characters; I loved creating him and I'd like to write a fun little novel just about him. He was such a stressed-out creep.)
So I studied the photos of the yacht very intently, I tried to internalize that yacht and I did my best to translate that into my book. And I am not kidding you, but when I saw those photos of Johnny Depp's yacht last week, it looks like it is the very same model as the one I chose. The very same layout inside. It's decorated totally differently, but it really looks like the same one. It was such a creepy feeling. Why is this so incredibly familiar to me??? Then I realized, OMG, this is just like Jared's yacht!
Another in a really, really, really long line of Johnny Depp coincidences in my world that drive me kind of bonkers. (I'm tempted to tell you about the pajama thing that happened recently but I'm thinking it's better to spare you. It is sufficient to say that the torture of inexplicable-ness never stops around here.)
Okay, gang. Guess what???? I'm gonna scoot but NOT b/c I have any editing to do! Yay! But b/c I have a new book review to write. I just finished reading Benjamin Perez's upcoming book, CUNTIONARY: Repent at Your Leisure (Or the Folklore of Hell). It is coming soon from BlazeVOX Books, NY. It is another stunner of a book, gang. I reviewed his last book, The Evil Queen: A Pornolexicology back when I was still running the EAA (2005?). That book was an unbelievable masterpiece of language -- and specifically of sex and religion and language. It was a book well worth experiencing if you love the English language (and fetish sex), but it was not for the "casual reader." And CUNTIONARY is "sort of" in the same vein & yet once more extremely difficult to categorize.
I guess I have my work cut out for me!!! Have a great Monday, gang, wherever you are and whatever you're doing (or attempting to do!). I'm on your side! Remember that! (And I'm going to try to get a little bit more on my own side, too.) See ya! Te quiero mucho.
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