Month: October 2003

A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people. – Larry Gelbart

Writing is easy. All you do is stare at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead. – Gene Fowler

The other day, I signed up for NaNoWriMo. I suppose this means I’ll have to write something, doesn’t it?

Although, around 1,600 words a day could be asking a lot. I’m still going to be expected to come in to work.

Sometime way back in June, with the help of some readers and friends, I put together a mix CD exchange. Ultimately, five other people played along: Sharon, Rob, Nyssa, Remi, and John. And, as I’ve said before, I was really pleased with the results. I think the group put together some terrific songs, and I’ve really enjoyed listening to the CDs each of them sent me.

Sometime last week, it occurred to me that some of them might appreciate the opportunity to share their own thoughts on the mixes once they’d had the opportunity to listen to them. So, basically, that’s what this post is for: a place to discuss the mixes you were sent or the ones that you mailed. Any thoughts?

I’m not sure what I like less: that I’m still not used to being back, or that eventually I will be used to being back. I really need to move away from Pennsylvania.

I just don’t know how much longer I can stay someplace where October is a winter month.

I think this is mostly for my own sake, so you can feel free to ignore it, but basically, I have four options:

  1. Stay in State College. Ultimately (if not immediately), I think this would prove to be a mistake. At best, I think it would keep me exactly where I am now, wanting nothing so much as to get out. There are things I like about this town, things for which I’ve stayed and which might tempt me again, but ultimately there is nothing that amounts to a reason to stay. A week away really helped remind me of that.

  2. Go back to New York. Financially, this probably makes the most sense. It’s not an exceptionally long or necessarily difficult move, my family is there, and the writing/editing jobs I’d like are in greater abundance there than in most other places. But it’s not considerably warmer, or different, and I don’t think I want to live with my parents or work in New York City all that much.

  3. Go to Austin, Texas. I had fun there last week, and not just because I was on vacation and in good company. I liked the town the first time I saw it a few years ago. I toyed, then, with the idea of moving. It is warmer (by far), and it is decidedly different. But there are things that worry me about it: that it’s far away from family, that it’s hot, that it is different and confusing, that I don’t know many people there, that it might be more than I can handle. And then there’s the job factor, which, to be honest, is probably my biggest concern, the thing that makes such a move not simply frightening but problematic. The other factors worry me (or I wouldn’t have listed them), but I don’t think any of them are deal breakers in and of themselves. Austin might prove to be too hot, too different, too confusing, too far away. But I don’t think any of those things would kill me inside of a year. If they proved to be too much, I could leave. Whereas moving to the city without a job lined up doesn’t even feel like an option, and certainly not an option on which I’d like to follow through. I liked the city, and it intrigues me, but I don’t think moving there for just any job — much less nothing but the vague hope for a job — is a wise move.

  4. Go Anyplace Else. Basically this amounts to the same thing as Austin but without the passing familiarity. The idea of choosing somewhere at random (even if it’s a somewhat informed, book-learned random) has never exactly appealed to me all that much.

Which, I guess, is just a long, drawn-out way of saying I still ain’t got a clue.