Over the past few months, I've been absent here more than present. (If I recall my basic Emily Dickinson knowledge, she made a pretty good case that absence is indeed presence, compressed. But I digress.). I suppose you've noticed. I have run many guest posts, and am grateful to the writers who have been willing to share their stories and advice here about aspects of writing, publishing, and the writing life.
Yes, partly my non-blogging is a result of (thankfully!) being quite busy with paid work – writing, editing, teaching, coaching, and with family…stuff. (Sartre was wrong, by the way, hell isn't "other people," it's shepherding one's oldest child through the college application, admittance, visit, scholarship, financial aid, and decision process.)
The silence has also been partly intentional.
I have been thinking. Thinking about so many writing-related things. Thinking takes time, or at least, it should. And sometimes, it requires more input, less output.
Sometimes one needs to regroup, to listen and not speak, to absorb and ponder, and refrain from churning out more words, advice, ideas, (noise?). That's what I've been doing. Observing, considering, reading what (many) others have to offer in the way of writing and craft advice, publishing guidance, career development.
Being in that kind of mode typically is not that interesting to anyone else; it doesn't look exciting from the outside, either in person or on the page. I decided that while I'm in that zone, it's probably not all that useful, at the same time, to also write blog posts.
Often I point out to writing students and coaching/editing clients that in the total writing process, in both the act and business of writing, the most underrated facet is -- thinking. We are all so busy writing, talking, revising, editing, explaining, defending, pontificating, discussing. Thinking falls off the radar.
When I want to, when I can, I'll have something more to say. Maybe tomorrow, maybe not.
Meanwhile, I'm thinking.