Over the past three to four weeks, I have been struggling with my perceived place in the writing world. The core question bothering me was, “Am I good enough to be doing this?” Self-doubt, self loathing and depression were once again kicking my ass and I lashed out at all of you in “Fame.”
I seem to go through this every so often, but I’ve never gone so far at to lash out like that. As with all of my creative non-fiction, it was based in truth and only embellished enough to be an interesting read. I realize that it was incredibly stupid and unfair of me to do so, and I apologize to all of you.
Writing that piece also scared the crap out of me. It was a sure sign of self-destructive behavior (in the sense that “writing” was what was destructing) and I don’t really want to stop writing. Ever.
So, I made the solid choice to organize my writing lifestyle and this past Monday, I launched a second blog that I intend to use as a focus for my novel writing and publishing endeavors called, In Other Worlds.
And then I didn’t write all week.
Because things happened.
The afternoon following my blog launch, the city of Boston was subject to an act of terror. I remained glued to my television like I haven’t been since Sept 11, 2001, watching the horror unfold in a city I used to call home. I decided not to write about that event or my thoughts and feelings about it because others would and they would do a much better job at it than I.
On Tuesday, I woke up with the plague.
For the next three days, I fought a fever that almost hit 102, headache, bodyaches, cough, soreness, congestion, weakness – you name it. I don’t know what exactly the disease was, but my wife had it too and we were a miserable pair.
On Friday, I woke up at 6am, feeling pretty good, and turned the local news on to check the weather, as I always do. Gotta make sure the kids are dressed properly for the day at school, right?
I watched the news for sixteen hours. Between NECN, WMUR and the local feed direct from Boston, I had continuous live coverage of events – by local reporters. (By the way NECN, you better give Scott Yount a raise at the very least. Being the ONLY reporter on the scene of the house where that asshole was caught with nothing but a cell phone and a webcam, put NECN miles ahead of any other station reporting at the time. I found it amusing that the major networks were getting information almost a half hour later than Scott was reporting it.)
I watched with shock and awe as they searched for what’s-his-face in neighborhoods I knew! I used to walk along Norfolk St in Somerville and Cambridge. I knew someone who lived on Mt Auburn Street in Watertown. I’ve been to the Arsenal Mall. It was quite surreal to be seeing this on my television.
Throughout the day, my wife and I played detective and speculated about the fate of what’s-his-name. In the end, we figured he had been injured in the firefight the night before and was hiding somewhere in Watertown. We smiled in satisfaction when we found out we were right.
So, yeah. Been a pretty shitty week all around.
Next week will be better.