A dear college friend talked me into driving to New York and back in the space of two days, in order to attend Neil Gaiman’s impromptu reading of his new work.
It was manna for the aspiring writer’s soul (or, this aspiring writer, anyhow). The whole trip got me thinking about what I’d need to do to get my head into that space, hours upon hours watching the miles in front of me with thoughts and plots for company. The story itself was very engaging, and afterward his wife (the lovely Amanda Palmer) serenaded the 700+ of us in attendance with a rendition of the Ukulele Anthem, which includes the lines
quit the b*ching on your blog
and stop pretending art is hard
I looked over at my friend at that, and said “..right.”
I try not to complain overmuch on the Internet, and this blog has gone mostly neglected since I created it last June. But it’s time to make art, and someday perhaps after I make enough art, the art I make will be good.
Thank you, AFP, for the kick in the butt that I needed. And to Mr. Gaiman, for the opportunity, and the lovely story.