I have returned to the safety of my studio in the sky after a late night out....but I get ahead of myself. Today started off pretty productively, and I worked in bed from seven to nine, but then I began to despair, and the fear spirals about the book took over, and I had no idea what to do. So eventually I took a shower, which usually helps. And while I was in the shower, I had an epiphany...the reason I'm having so much trouble writing this book, and why I often seem to feel blank and dead inside when I stare at the empty screen, may be because the book is terminally, totally boring.
This may seem like a terrible realization after months of stewing, and I certainly wish I would have realized it sooner. But while I couldn't fix my nameless dread, I can definitely fix boring. So that left me almost giddy with glee over finally feeling like I know what's wrong...not that that gets me off the hook, since I have a ton of work to do to fix it. But this is better than where I was.
So I celebrated by taking my notebook and walking to Caffe Union so that I could brainstorm less-boring stuff while drinking a mimosa. It was unusually slow there at lunch, so Tony came out (and brought me another mimosa on the house), and we discussed more of his dad's wartime experiences (his dad was a small child in Italy during WWII and saw Hitler and Mussolini at a train station, then came to the US and ended up being drafted during Korea, although he did his service in Europe). This was a delightful way to spend an hour, and I was happily buzzed after.
I took my buzz to Rapha, which I hadn't been to in awhile, and slowly replaced the alcohol in my blood with caffeine while I scribbled in my idea notebook. Then I walked home, took a nap to the sound of the Blue Angels practicing over my head, messed around on the internet, ate a snack, and then brainstormed for another hour or two. Tomorrow will be more of this, but hopefully I continue feeling good about possible solutions to my issue.
But I had v. unusual plans for tonight; usually I would have gone to bed three hours ago, but instead I refreshed my makeup (probably too much, but I was bored), put on a silk dress, and walked over to Octavia to meet up with Adit/Priyanka/Chandlord for a v. impromptu birthday dinner for Adit. The reservation was for 10pm, which was absurdly late, but since Priyanka had to work tonight and this plan all came together in the last twenty-four hours, it was the best we could do.
As it turns out, Octavia was incredible (also incredible: Octavia, as you may remember, is the heroine of my current book). Every single dish was awesome, from the soft-yolked deviled eggs to the perfect salad, to the curried squash soup (amazeballs), to the porkchop (which no one else could eat but me, but I was selfishly glad because it was the best porkchop I've had in my entire life, no jhoke), to the dessert at the end (I couldn't have the angel food cake, but the Eton Mess, which involved ice cream/meringue/huckleberry/fruit/etc., was incredible). Every dish was pretty much perfect, and the restaurant itself was really lowkey and lovely. I would definitely go back, perhaps to celebrate when this book is finally over.....
But that isn't now. I'm glad we forced Adit to celebrate his birthday and look at the man in the mirror...even though he didn't really want to, and even if it perhaps would have been more appropriate to kidnap him and take him to the Olive Garden in Stonestown Galleria instead. But it was good to have some family time in the middle of the week, even if it was also in the middle of the night and missing some of the usual family suspects.
Now that I'm home, though, and starting to wind down from a lovely evening, I should go to bed so tomorrow isn't any more brutal than it has to be. Goodnight!
This may seem like a terrible realization after months of stewing, and I certainly wish I would have realized it sooner. But while I couldn't fix my nameless dread, I can definitely fix boring. So that left me almost giddy with glee over finally feeling like I know what's wrong...not that that gets me off the hook, since I have a ton of work to do to fix it. But this is better than where I was.
So I celebrated by taking my notebook and walking to Caffe Union so that I could brainstorm less-boring stuff while drinking a mimosa. It was unusually slow there at lunch, so Tony came out (and brought me another mimosa on the house), and we discussed more of his dad's wartime experiences (his dad was a small child in Italy during WWII and saw Hitler and Mussolini at a train station, then came to the US and ended up being drafted during Korea, although he did his service in Europe). This was a delightful way to spend an hour, and I was happily buzzed after.
I took my buzz to Rapha, which I hadn't been to in awhile, and slowly replaced the alcohol in my blood with caffeine while I scribbled in my idea notebook. Then I walked home, took a nap to the sound of the Blue Angels practicing over my head, messed around on the internet, ate a snack, and then brainstormed for another hour or two. Tomorrow will be more of this, but hopefully I continue feeling good about possible solutions to my issue.
But I had v. unusual plans for tonight; usually I would have gone to bed three hours ago, but instead I refreshed my makeup (probably too much, but I was bored), put on a silk dress, and walked over to Octavia to meet up with Adit/Priyanka/Chandlord for a v. impromptu birthday dinner for Adit. The reservation was for 10pm, which was absurdly late, but since Priyanka had to work tonight and this plan all came together in the last twenty-four hours, it was the best we could do.
As it turns out, Octavia was incredible (also incredible: Octavia, as you may remember, is the heroine of my current book). Every single dish was awesome, from the soft-yolked deviled eggs to the perfect salad, to the curried squash soup (amazeballs), to the porkchop (which no one else could eat but me, but I was selfishly glad because it was the best porkchop I've had in my entire life, no jhoke), to the dessert at the end (I couldn't have the angel food cake, but the Eton Mess, which involved ice cream/meringue/huckleberry/fruit/etc., was incredible). Every dish was pretty much perfect, and the restaurant itself was really lowkey and lovely. I would definitely go back, perhaps to celebrate when this book is finally over.....
But that isn't now. I'm glad we forced Adit to celebrate his birthday and look at the man in the mirror...even though he didn't really want to, and even if it perhaps would have been more appropriate to kidnap him and take him to the Olive Garden in Stonestown Galleria instead. But it was good to have some family time in the middle of the week, even if it was also in the middle of the night and missing some of the usual family suspects.
Now that I'm home, though, and starting to wind down from a lovely evening, I should go to bed so tomorrow isn't any more brutal than it has to be. Goodnight!
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