Hey, it's appropriate. Honestly, I've had a whole series of blogs sitting neatly outlined, waiting for me. One, I'm finicky. Two, I have never written an outlined and looked at it again. I just make a new one.
So the year draws to a close, and it's got me sentimental again. (Shock, horror, wonder, amazement, and awe.) I'm sitting here, soon to be published (I forgot to mention that, didn't I?), working on jump-starting a .... Well, it's a business. But it's a bit broad scale. Essentially a full-scale writing lab and editing services complete with occasional workshops. An ultimate resource center.
Mostly, I'm not a huge fan of the nine-to-five desk job, but I don't do so well without some semblance of sanity. And between the many hats I've worn over the last few years I've discovered I really can explain the left-brained side of writing and mostly know what I'm talking about. (We're writers - the goal is to sound intelligent. It generally works so long as we're safely behind a pen or keyboard.)
So I'm working on some plans - some just to get me to the end of the year, some projecting what next year will look like (provided the planets don't misalign, Jesus doesn't come back before 1 January 2010, and mischievous faeries don't decide to take action against me), and a few things dawn on me.
1. I am still hopelessly obsessed with the contrast between light and dark and the redemption theme.
2. I am hopelessly fixed on a threshold between the natural and supernatural world - assuming there's really a difference, which I highly doubt.
3. God has this bizarre habit of showing instead of telling.
4. I am attempting to understand the sentences "We are God's poetry" and "What do you call Ultimate?" (Matt Chandler)
5. The fear of failure is often masking and guarding a deeper problem - the desire for control. Irrevocable, unyielding, closed-fisted Control. Like Ebeneezer Scrooge before his fateful night with three spirits. It results in an overwhelming sensation that leads to despair or anal retentiveness. The most die-hard Type A you know is, somewhere in the core of their soul, simply afraid.
6. God is not mocked.
What? You expected something profound? This is the Veil. The profoundess is in its unprofound nature. I started this year determined it wouldn't be like the previous 24 years. Did I meet it?
Honestly, on some level only my Sovereign knows.