“They … set up a May-pole, drinking and dancing about it many days
together, inviting the Indian women, for their consorts, dancing and
frisking together, (like so many fairies, or furies rather,) and worse
practices. As if they had anew revived & celebrated the feasts of ye
Roman Goddess Flora, or ye beastly practices of ye mad Bacchanalians.”
– Governor William Bradford, History of Plymouth Plantation
– Governor William Bradford, History of Plymouth Plantation
I wish I could say I'm having as much fun this month as those Maypole dancers. In my case it's more like "Mayday! Mayday! We've hit an iceberg!"
Yes, we have had a nice run of lovely May days here in New York City (well, not today or yesterday--which may (may?) be why I'm a little cranky. Or MAYbe I'm cranky because in about an hour I will be heading in to collect the final projects from my Typography class---and have already received a not-so-promising email from a student who is not finished with the work. Oh--sigh--for most college professors, it's all over by mid-May and the past semester a fading memory as they delve into their scholarly pursuits.
My university seems to start later in the Spring and run later---so finals this week, graduation in two weeks. And there are so many other things going on which I won't bore you with.
Am I complaining? Not at all--don't get me wrong---I LOVE my job--and I am so, so lucky to have a job that I love, pays the rent AND (usually inspires me--except for the month of Mayhem). But May--oh--May---it's the time when all good deputy chairs must do their deputy jobs---which means, writing reports, planning ahead, leading cats to a bath (that would be other faculty members) and get chased by hysterical students as they try to best each other with the most believable excuses for not having their work done.
Yes---so I am still in the throes of this--and as a result have not been able to write a single word of fiction (oh, I AM writing--writing and writing and writing---reporting actually--for the College). Hence, I am PENT up with new ideas--splitting, bursting at the seems with the need to create!
I have a shiny new idea just waiting--screaming, having a tantrum, begging me to pay attention to it---but I can't just yet.
But I wanted to share because--well, at least I can get the chance to talk about it.
For now I am calling the new WIP—EXCEPTIONAL---and it is vaguely autobiographical--lifted from the memory of my senior year in high school when I---dated the bad boy, and cut class (with the help of my dearly departed art teacher who believed in me with such fervor, I'm probably still living on the fumes) to hang out in the art room all day--where I reigned supreme. That was me then--exceptionally good at art and my academics, but exceptionally inept in almost everything else.
EXCEPTIONAL features Lydia Wilson, self-avowed art geek and Queen of the Art room, but a nobody once she enters the busy hallway. There is the torrid romance with the smart-alecky bad boy (yep--true--my parents are still scarred from this), the cool art teacher (very fictionalized--I don't want to sully the memory of the real man, Mr. Baldo, the Owl Prince), the nifty art buddy dude (also true--whose semi-famous identity shall remain a secret). But where the (stretched like salt water taffy) "truth" ends, the story begins--- When Lydia discovers a collection of genius-level artwork stashed away the art class storage room, the enigmatic new girl, Rachel has already begun to turn the school's social hierarchy on its ear. As Lydia grows more and more suspicious of Rachel and her motives, everyone assumes she's just jealous. Until people start to die.
Okay---I have not written a word of this. I just wanted to get it out there into the Universe because it's been whispering sweet nothings in my ear, and until the Mayhem subsides, I can't respond.
Do any of you have times of the year when life overrides your creative flow, and you feel as though you may burst at the seams if you can't write soon? I'd love to hear your stories!
