Clarion, Last Day

Move out is tomorrow.  I'll pack up my collection of too-much stuff and drive back to my parents' house, where I'll be living for the time being. 

The last six weeks have been brain-meltingly fantastic.  I can't remember the last time I was so sleep deprived and simultaneously caffeinated, but neither can I remember a time have ever worked harder in my life.  (The only possible exception would be during Latin on the second go-round.  I wanted to learn it then.)  My sense of constructing a story has grown to an unbelievable degree. 

I don't think I was expecting quite such extreme growth.  I've learned more about writing in six weeks than I did in the last four years (at a hugely successful and innovative university-level writing program).  It wouldn't have happened--or at least been so dramatic--if everyone who'd gotten in wasn't an incredible writer.  One woman's story (that was written while here), she got it critiqued, went home, revised it in two days, sent it off, and within the week Strange Horizons had emailed her saying they'd be pleased to publish it.  To my knowledge no one else has sent stories out, but I know in my bones that there are at minimum several more stories from these people that will be published in the not-so-distant future.  Everyone in this program is an incredible writer.  

All this to say: if you're a speculative fiction writer, apply to Clarion.  If you're worried about the price, apply for a scholarship.  The return is incredible.  Clarion is worth whatever you put into it and more. 

Starting anew. Blegh.

One of the stories I submitted as part of my Clarion application (summer sci-fi/fantasy writing workshop) had been more or less a work-in-progress for a year and a half.  It started out as a 10k-word reworking of Rumplestiltskin and ended up closer to a 6k-word twisted version of a Grimm story.  I'm proud of it, and I'm glad to be done with it--not because I'm tired of working on it, but I just so badly want it to be the emotional roller coaster I kept seeing in my head.

So.  I sent that story in with my application.  And now I've got an idea for another story, this one more of a modern-day, urban fantasy story.  I've got a separate folder in my "Original Fiction" file for all the notes and ideas I've got, and I wrote out the bare bones in a kind of semi-outline, and just now I opened up another new document to begin the actual writing. 

But dear god, I'd forgotten what it's like to fight against the blank page.  There's nothing on the page.  It's overwhelming and I've got no idea where to start. 

Slow progress, no picture today

I was going to go to the gym today.  Got dressed for it and everything, and then I sat down.  On the edge of the bed.  While I was at home.  And all my momentum went whump.  Dead.

Tomorrow's another day.  (Thank god.  Can you imagine if we actually had to finish our To Do lists in a single twenty-four hours?  The world would crash like an overloaded computer.)

I (finally!) finished my application for the six week writing workshop at UCSD this summer, though, called Clarion.  I'm terrified of getting in--but even more anxious about not getting in.  Two of my favorite authors are lecturers this year, and I can't even imagine what it would be like to be known to them.  Christ, what if I got in and then by the end they knew my name?!

Ahem.  I'm going to stop fretting until I hear back from the panel looking at my application (partially consisting of those two authors.  AAAHHHH!)