Really. I'm still here, but I've been on a freelance project for the past two weeks that is taking up all of my writing time. The money is good, so that's very helpful. I think I've got at least another week to go, maybe a little more, and then it'll be time to get back to my new novel. (My goal of finishing in January doesn't look attainable anymore--maybe February. And somehow I need to get something put together for Monday's Rhombus playwright meeting. Yikes.)
I'm headed to a theatre symposium on Sunday and Monday, nominally about actors and their role in theatre, and I guess I'm supposed to help provide some of the voice of the playwright.
I have a zillion ideas to write about in this blog, once I find a little breathing space (like the unequal role of the playwright in the theatrical collaborative process, the value of looking for quality actors in one's own back yard, and more).
Had a great meeting earlier this week with a few lighting and sound designers, in preparation for a workshop that I'm helping put together with StageSource, called Playwriting in 3D, which will seek to help writers better understand the role and desires of designers when it comes to working on new plays. With any luck it'll happen in April. (More to come about all of this.)
I met a writer yesterday, the sister of a friend, who regularly writes 2,500 words a day. Maybe as many as four books in a year. Wow. Just call me Mr. Glacial. I'm lucky if, when I actually get writing time, I can get through 1,000 words a day, and even then this current book is on its third major tear-down rewrite. I'll just try to accept that we all have different processes.
(In case you're wondering, the worms are thriving, and the garden is still producing greens.)