wordcount.$&^%&$##

"If you know what you're going to write when you're writing a poem, it's going to be average." -- Derek Walcott

it is okay to not know what you are doing, right?

right.

word count = 1,896

verbs of summer

suddenly you look up and july is 3/4 of the way done.

when not sorting water colors or crayons or construction paper, i have someone managed to pass the summer:

volunteering at rock camp

socializing post-rock camp (this included several nights of convincing myself i am of fit age/mind to stay out until 4 a.m. or so)

writing more little songs/poems than actual manuscript material

making jokes out of gre vocabulary words

playing MASH

listening to holly miranda

learning new bike routes

watching professor get fat

...i have the whole month of august off, and am hoping/praying/preparing to write daily and get to a beach (any beach!) as much as i possibly can. the looming pressure of applying to mfa programs is slowly shifting from the fantasy sector of my brain into the panic portion.

meanwhile, my horoscope says big things are happening this month. i'm hoping a draft of a killer new story is one of those things.

independence

definitions of independence on the web:

• freedom from control or influence of another or others
• the successful ending of the American Revolution; "they maintained close relations with England even after independence"
• a city in western Missouri; the beginning of the Santa Fe Trail

in other words:

when i found a blue 3 speed racer bicycle for sale on craigslist, i worried what it would be like to ride such a fierce thing. it has bull horn handle bars, no fenders, a hard and not very loving seat. i was wearing a blue dress and had my purse with me. 'it is harder, you know, in a dress,' said the guy who was selling me the bike. 'i'm okay,' i said, hiking up my skirt around my thighs to straddle the bike and pedal around the block. harder in a dress? puh-leeze. watch me, jerk face.

i bought the bike, hitched my purse to the handlebars, snapped on my helmet, took a few practices runs around the block, and then tore through the streets, from chinatown to the financial district, over the brooklyn bridge, home.

it is light enough that i can carry it up the stairs. nothing is more empowering: hoisting my bike up in my hands, purse, dress and all, hiking up the stairs and stashing it in my apartment. hello, new chapter of my bike life.



other personal definitions of independence:

i am off from work tomorrow

i am spending the evening at gorilla coffee, listening to michael jackson songs on youtube and getting some writing done

i am partaking in a YA writers 1K a day challenge, where writers share their writing processes and then post their personal word counts on the blog (sound familiar?)

you can steal my bike, but you can't keep me my biking self down.