I’m still here. Just in a slump.
I have tried to blog a few times in the last couple of weeks, but they always sounded like slightly altered versions of previous blogs. Maybe three years into my festival of cancer… I have run out of things to say.
During this “cancercation” I have started my first novel adhering strictly to the commandment “write what you know.” Unfortunately, I am finding the adventures of a balding, nauseous man who spends his entire day sitting in a chair in his bedroom watching “My Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding” to have a few dramatic limitations. Oh sure, I’ve got a killer two hundred pages, but where to go from there?
Looks like I will spend the entire summer on a three-week chemotherapy cycle. The idea of which is to poison you, let you wallow in your own filth for a week or two and then let you gloriously recover to full strength so they can poison you all over again.
The only catch is that, the drugs tend to build up in your body over time. The treatments get rougher, the side effects stronger, and the recovery time slower. So eventually the whole process starts to blend together.
All this to say I need inspiration, so I’m thinking of turning the eyes of this blog toward my other passion…. Crafting.
Perhaps I could provide instruction on how to create the perfect summer walking stick, hewn from an old broom handle? Or how to reupholster your office chair with the remnants from that ski jacket that went out of style last winter? Fruit cozies? Tin can luminaries? Anything there? No?
Okay, maybe it’s best for all of us if I wallow in my slump. Embrace the wallow, if you will.
Will do. In the meantime? Thank God for gypsies. And their weddings.