writing

and writing. more writing. sometimes being locked up in a hotel room has its advantages.

frustrations. i feel the very rickety house i am erecting out of toothpicks sway under the pressure of thinking too hard too fast. i would never begin an endeavor without a little industry research, which serves as a treacherous gift indeed. i need this piece to be marketable. i need my fiction to be published. i need to make sure that the dizziness i get when writing transcends to those who are reading. i need to decide if i'm going with short fiction or if i will head for longer and more painful pastures that i have never explored. i need to make sure my creativity (i fucking hate that word) isn't being stunted by the fear of knowing all of this.

take the girl out of california... and she still acts the same. i wish i could say that being in china is inspiring me, but it's really not. it is affording me the time to write about the same things i would probably be writing about at home, except that i would be too busy projecting sales and marking down product. mostly being in china on a daily level sort of annoys me because i can't get the right shit at the grocery store, and that's about the extent of the impact. oh, and i get lost a lot because i can't read a lot of the signs. sad, but my international experience is turning into another version of carolyn experience somewhere else. episode 5, season 2.

writing. writing.