Why do I feel like I've written a post like this (well, except for the ear part) a dozen times already? Don't answer that.
The other day at the library, my laptop was sitting squarely in front of me and, as usual, I had nothing going on. This is—sadly—my modus operandi. Most times I'll stand up and start wandering around the stacks. I make faces at little kids. I watch people and try to figure out what they're listening to on their iPods. I toy with the idea of walking up one floor to grab a snack in the cafe. I walk over to the computer catalog to see if random books are available.
But the other day I decided I would not leave my seat. Not only would I not leave my seat, I would not leave the piece I was writing. No checking e-mail, no reading gossip blogs, no reading YOUR blogs (honestly, you people FASCINATE me). I sat. I sat and sat and squirmed and squirmed and played with my hair and became tremendously thirsty. You know the top part of your ear? The part that curls under? I uncurled mine, which is both painful and strangely energizing. I did all this for a long time, occasionally writing a word and then deleting it immediately. And then when I had only fifteen minutes left before I had to pick up the kids, I started typing. When I was finished, I had the same number of words, more or less, but they were better. Better words, better piece, but very red ear.
In other writing news, Cecilia B. just e-mailed to say she will be publishing my story, "My Father's Tattoo," in GROWING UP FILIPINO II. She also wanted me to let folks know that she is still open to submissions. If you've already sent something, send something else! Once again, here's the call.