The snow is lovely, but it only stuck for less than a day and now anything that flakes down simply vanishes. At the moment, my windows are so clogged up with condensation that it could be raining men, goblins, or jelly beans out there and I wouldn’t notice. Everything I do gets rejected, and even when I spend £15 on the entry fee and £7 on postage, they can’t even bother to send a form email to tell me so. I haven’t written anything for weeks, and this editing project which has literally been happening on and off for over a decade is in yet another ‘final’ phase. NO ONE APPRECIATES MY GENIUS. Or my cupcakes, which are in a tin beside me and no one is eating them. Which I baked because a) my flat is cold (see ‘snow’, supra) and b) it meant I didn’t have to go back to the editing just then.
(Or now, because a blog post counts as writing. Right?)
So I keep doing what I can, because eventually something is going to work out. And, of course, there are plenty of things happening. I just got a request to write another blog entry – this one in relation to the workshop I’m leading at the Scottish Poetry Library next month. I’m putting together a blurb for a reading in May, part of a much larger series of events about literature and medicine in Edinburgh. The Stewed Rhubarb launch for their next three pamphlets – one of them being Lipstick is Always a Plus – has a date, and may soon have a venue.
And, well, someday the editing will be done.
And so will January, which may not be the cruellest month, but it sure does get dark early.