Wednesday, April 23, 2008
The weather is finally nice here in New England and it's been a struggle to focus on work. It seems a shame to be indoors, pegging away at a computer when the sun is shining.
Which reminds me of part of the conversation we had this past weekend when Alvina was asking about her speech. After writing one or two books, some authors, Libby suggested, just run out of things to say. They've written what they needed to communicate and they have nothing more.
Perhaps this is true and perhaps this is true because authors and illustrators spend so much time in their insular worlds, expelling their thoughts and dreams. The solitary existence of being chained to our computers and desks does little to refresh our fountains of creativity...and over time, maybe we become wrung sponges. We spend so much time writing about life experiences, that we forget to experience life.
And I am realizing the tragedy of that. I can easily look back on the last ten years and see the countless times I let real life pass by so I could create a fictional one. I know this industry is competitive, I know we have to work hard and long to make it work for us. That one has to pay their dues. But as the financial worries and insecurity continue to shackle me, I realize those dues can never be fully paid. Yet, I have to believe there is a way to balance the accounts better. So that I can go outside.
Which, even though I have a deadline, I did.