Into the Great Wide Open

Skies aren’t so blue, though.

I’m up in the Catskills, alone for the weekend, to work on my shit.

“What shit, Beck?” you ask.

Two shits:

  1. I’m here to calm down and get some headspace. Without getting into too much detail, I’ve been on the struggle bus a little lately. Ever depersonalized? It’s fucked up.
  2. I’m here to write a book. Well, not a whole book. Rome wasn’t built in a day. A book does not get written in three days. Maybe by someone else it might, but not by me. I pat myself on the back when I finish a blog post, kids. I’ve been trying to write a book for 30 years. Get real.

So I’m here, in a small but modern and cubical cottage. I’m checking in with work stuff for my Big Kid Job, but I also just did some critiques and now I’m writing this post. Both things will get me in the mood to work on Beck Stuff. It’s chilly today – in the 60s and no higher – and grey and might rain. My favorite weather.

“Beck,” you say. “Are you being sarcastic?”

Fair question. People often think I’m being sarcastic when I say, in writing rather than out loud, that I’m excited about dreary weather, because who says that and means it? But I do. I mean it. I’m a vampire. Cold and rainy and grey is my jam. So when I say, “It’s going to be cold and rainy the whole time I’m there; awesome” I’m being sincere.

Now that I’ve explained myself to all two of you, I bid you good day.

B

2 thoughts on “Into the Great Wide Open

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