After the Arctic Circle
I'm back from Eagle Plains
I can’t believe that a week has already passed since I finished my artist residency at the Arctic Circle Retreat. I’ve been swamped with the work I left behind and have barely lifted a pen to the novel since—though, there are benefits to putting the work away for a while. To let the subconscious turn over the ideas and characters, and to be fresh and objective when I come back to it. I’d rather it was after a completed first draft, but this will do.
My chances of getting across the finish line by the end of the year are dwindling, but it’s not impossible. I now need to submit the first chapter on Tuesday: a week before I originally planned. That will be the first time anyone has read any of it. And the first time I’ve talked about the contents of the novel to anyone other than my wife. I’m nervous. I’m not ready. But, despite not being where I wish I was, I think the timing is right. Pressure might not feel comfortable, but it produces.
I’m reminded of this video by Rabbi Dr. Abraham Twerski on how lobsters grow by responding to discomfort:
The lobster’s a soft mushy animal that lives inside of a rigid shell. That rigid shell does not expand.
Well, how can the lobster grow? Well, as the lobster grows, that shell becomes very confining, and the lobster feels itself under pressure and uncomfortable. It goes under a rock formation to protect itself from predatory fish, casts off the shell, and produces a new one. Well, eventually, that shell becomes very uncomfortable as it grows. Back under the rocks. The lobster repeats this numerous times.
The stimulus for the lobster to be able to grow is that it feels uncomfortable. Now, if lobsters had doctors, they would never grow because as soon as the lobster feels uncomfortable, goes to the doctor, gets a Valium, gets a Percocet, feels fine, never casts off his shell.
I think that we have to realize that times of stress are also times that are signals for growth, and if we use adversity properly, we can grow through adversity.
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Soon enough I’ll be filling you in on the novel and its (dis)contents. I’d actually like to get a query letter and synopsis together with that first chapter and start trying to find someone to publish the thing. Maybe it’s quixotic for an unpublished author to attempt such a thing in a world where novel-reading is dying almost as fast as the publishing industry.
But that is the business—the practice—of someone who writes a novel, isn’t it? The meaning is in the sharing. I am (almost) ready to walk down the street naked with this stack of papers clutched in my arms.
Writing
2/10. It’s already been a week?
Reading and Listening
Started listening to Nuclear War: A Scenario by Annie Jacobsen. I’ll probably be finished before I hit send on this newsletter, because I can’t stop. It’s compulsive listening for me, and I knew it would be. The dread of the impending atomic holocaust (not an if, but a when) makes this utterly morbid, but the avalanche of fascinating facts combined with the fairly predictable story of profound human folly makes this book utterly captivating. Not for everyone.
Listened to a couple of WTF with Marc Maron episodes. I’m often turned off by his windbaggy intros but the guy has a knack for bringing something authentic and compelling out of his conversations. Specifically, I listened to his interviews with Al Pacino, Josh Brolin, Jude Law and Paul Giamatti.
News
I’m teaching a playwriting class at YukonU in the upcoming winter term (January-April) in addition to English. If you’re local, come join on Monday evenings! I commit to you that by April 21, 2025, you will have a finished, workshopped and stage-ready one-act play in your hands.
Quote of the Week
“Too often we enjoy the comfort of opinion without the discomfort of thought.”
— John F. Kennedy