I’m sitting at a desk pushed up against the window at the Alyeska Resort in Girdwood, looking out at the mountains as night slowly descends. Up here in Alaska, night creeps in softly, even in the winter, the twilight lingering until the sky turns a deep cobalt blue that slowly deepens and darkens. Even though I’ve lived up here for almost twenty-five years, it always amazes me, this transition between night and day, and the way each blends into the other. This always reminds me of love, how when you love someone you slowly become alike yet while still retaining your differences.
Enough on love: I’m on a short writing vacation. I was up all last night, writing furiously and my thoughts are scattered and my head hurts and I’m hungry but don’t want to stop to eat. Writing like that is the best of anything, no?
I’ve accepted a journalism job in Eagle River, a small community outside of Anchorage. I start in two weeks, which means I need to write like crazy in order to get Waiting For My Daughter’s Ghost finished and to my agent.
I recently wrote about how much I loved freelancing and how I’d never return to the 9-5 sitting-on-my-ass-in-a-cubicle lifestyle, and I’ll write a post explaining my decision soon (hint: I don’t have to work a 9-5 schedule and there’s no cubicle involved).
Until then, I’m forsaking sleep and meals (though I have been snacking; how I love to snack) for the good of my book.
News: I got to dine with David Abrams Saturday night, along with other 49 Writers members, when he hit Anchorage for a reading. Abrams is the author of the award-winning Fobbit and gave a great talk on transitioning life experiences into fiction. I forgot my camera so I don’t have any photos but here’s one I stole from his Website.
Other news: I’m in love with Starbucks blueberry muffins. I’ve been subsisting on them (does one need anything else to survive?). I didn’t have the heart to ask if they’re vegan. On a writing vacation it’s best to live under the ‘don’t ask and don’t tell’ rule, no?