I’m trying to figure out what I want to write right now. Not what to write at this moment, but what sorts of things I want to write. I kind of knew finishing up the Eleanor Parker retrospective for The Stop Button would leave me floundering. And while I’m close on some other prospective subjects–I could do Godzilla, but I don’t see any point–nothing’s grabbing me. I have a built-in deadline for a Whit Stillman sum-up, but it’s actually months off.
And so my attention is turning from prospective film topics to prospective comic book ones. Lots of possibilites there. In fact, I spent about three weeks earlier this year making myself sick trying to figure out if I wanted to do some giant Love and Rockets project–spoiler, no, not right now.
I have the perfect title for a comic book sum-up. In fact, it just shipped. It gets here this weekend. It’d be a redundant project–the comic’s had lots of attention–but it’s one I’d want to write about. Lots is about to change about my comic book reading slash blogging slash podcasting (nothing I can talk about), but it’s impending.
It’s kind of exhausting, but I keep thinking–even just kept dripping to make sure the pipes don’t freeze–I need some kind of regular critical thinking creative activity. Serial chapters on The Stop Button are fine, but they rarely require too much thought. So apparently my alternative is to find things easier to overthink about.
On the plus side, I don’t use any of the language regularly associated with depression. But I think it’s because I’ve trained myself out of them. Ha.