In Which I Take a Nautical Metaphor Too Far

I hate the word funemployment. I really do. It is not fun. You can make the best of it, and try not to feel too guilty about it while doing so, but it isn’t fun.

Can you believe Michael Fassbender's going to play him in a film? Jesus H. Christ, I don't know what to make of that.

But, so, here I am making the best of it! Jung said something to the effect that children with fathers get their sense of self (or was it direction? Identity? Note to self: reread musty old Jung book) from that father. Children without fathers have to reinvent themselves– they’re always faking it, because that foundation of self just isn’t there. When I first read that, which was a long time ago and before I found my father, it hurt. It was another way of someone telling me that my sense of self was underdeveloped, and could never really be developed. But now?

Now I see it as a strength instead of a weakness. I have the freedom to reinvent myself, if I choose to do so. We all do, really, but I don’t have an anchor on my boat to haul up. And so no matter what I do next– whether it is still teaching, or doing something else– I think I should embrace that facet of my personality instead of trying to push it down. Writing is one of those activities that lets me have my cake and eat it, too, because in each character I am reinvented. Even when I am completely making a character up, trying so hard to not have him react the way I would react, I’m still the one putting words in his mouth and pushing him out onto a cliff. Unless you plagiarize, I’m not so sure anyone can completely divorce themselves from their characters.

I haven’t written on this page for almost a year! I’ve been writing, but I need to hold myself a little more accountable and take myself and my writing more seriously. After all, I may be an anchorless boat, but a boat without an anchor is still a boat. It’s just kinda floaty and stuff.

Now, to be up front with where I am in my writing, I am over fifty pages into a draft, and I’ve reached the point where I would like to cheat on it with another piece of writing. I’m going to do both, since I’ve nothing else to do but look for jobs, and you can only do so much of that per day. I feel so apologetic about it, like I have to explain to my husband why I’m taking up a boyfriend on the side.

Oh! Hey, now there’s a– Nope. Nice try, though, Little Miss Subconscious.

So, Project One: 54 pages, unedited. I think technically it is a paranormal mystery, but there has to be a more accurate subgenre. There’s not a vampire in sight. Main characters all set up, and the main problem is set up as well.

Project Two: Still in the notetaking stage. English cozy. Debating between 1920s, WWII, and immediately postwar. Chalk it up to my rediscovery of Agatha Christie after a regrettably long absence.

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