Pride and Prejudice and Facebook

Re-posting by request.

"Oh!" cried Elizabeth, "I don't wish to get on Facebook to-day."

"Why not?" said Bingley. "Do you not keep up with your friends?"

"My friends, yes. The people with whom I am intimate, and am comfortable being so. But Mrs. Phillips had a visit from the apothecary, owing to a recent ailment, and like as not will be offering a tour beneath her gown. Wickham will certainly have put forward either an insufferable meme or a picture of some young lady in an unladylike attitude, and Mr. Collins will post twenty links in the space of four minutes, all of them proving him to be as priggish nowadays as ever he was. I had much rather respect my acquaintances from the distance at which circumstance has placed us than despise them familiarly."

"But all of those acquaintances are your relations."

"Worse and worse! Mere acquaintances may be fairly laught at. One cannot laugh at the follies of one's own, and should therefore know as little of them as possible."

"Did you not unsubscribe from Wickham, at least?" said Bingley. "I thought you had."

"Yes, several times; but Facebook has re-fashioned itself again, and now I am forced to see everything he writes."

"Odd! Jane has not complained of it."

"Of course not. She is the sweetest creature in the world. I make no such pretensions."

At the Hog's Head: Literature and Lessons

Today's post went to The Hog's Head. I had originally intended to post it here, but decided it belonged at least as well there. Referencing Shannon Hale's aggregation of thoughts from various YA writers and M.T. Anderson's excellent essay, "On Ideology and Chickens with Blankets," I'm hoping for a good discussion on the relationship between morals/worldview/ideology and storytelling.

You're welcome to check it out and join the conversation at this link.

Rest and Re-Focus

Keeping in mind the thoughts several of you gave me on my Sunday troubles a couple of weeks ago, for the last two Sundays I've made an effort to prioritize rest and yet allow creativity as it comes. I like the general concept. If the computer comes up, which happens when creativity strikes, it gets harder not to overdo--but that's just something I'll have to be careful of.

And now... after almost a month off thanks to essay, the time has come to revise my novel again. I'm doing a shorter version of my original novel revision process, focusing in on steps four, five, and six (all of which will be less thorough, since much less needs ripping up and replacing.) My new, short-form scene summary is nearly complete. I'm excited.

P.S. For those of you praying for Washington farmers, thank you! My cousin informs us that the cherry growers are still in business as of this afternoon; the forecasted rain has held off. They need another couple of weeks, so don't stop. :)

Sunday Struggles

As I wrote awhile back, days of rest are necessary. I believe pretty strongly in taking one per week, and commenter David (newmaldon) recently gave me a link to a guest post on Chip MacGregor's blog that reinforced that thought beautifully.

But I'm lately finding rest days a challenge. The problem comes on a Sunday afternoon, when I'm supposed to find something to do with myself. If a book has my attention, great. Sometimes Lou and I make it a home-date night, with a nice dinner and a movie or Scrabble; also great. But time to myself almost always means turning to the internet or writing, both of which I consider--to some extent--work. [The internet qualifies as work because participating in the great online conversation is, for an introvert and obsessive self-editor, something that requires a fair amount of effort.]

The writing side of my mind doesn't stop on Sundays, anyway. Creative process has no sense of reverence; it'll hit at church, right in the middle of the Eucharistic prayer if it gets the chance. It's also happy to really get going at 10 PM, making it ever so likely to drive away sleep. Hey, I'm not complaining--at least it comes to me. It's just ... like one of those people who, with the best intentions, always seem to call or arrive at an awkward time.

There's not much to be done about that (at least, I haven't come up with anything yet.) As for Sunday afternoons, maybe I just need to pull out my guitar more often. Somehow that hardly ever feels like work.

Most of you who come by this blog regularly are writers or artists/photographers or parents or otherwise busy people for whom "a day off" doesn't necessarily mean rest and relaxation. If you have thoughts on what making time to rest means for you, I'd love to hear them. :)