So last night, while writing in my actual, physical journal, I went back and read through some of the poetry in past entries. And damn, I don't remember writing half of it. It's not terrible; some, if I'm allowed to toot my own horn, is pretty good. But I really don't recall the poems, their inspiration, any of it. My best guess is that since I write most of my journal entries at the end of the day, right before I crash, I was just too sleepy when I wrote those pieces.
I'm still trying to get back into writing short fiction, but I'm having trouble. I have a lot of difficulty concentrating when I'm at home, and going back through my old stuff leads to a lot of regrets. I find that it doesn't seem as good now as it did when I was presenting it to a class or having it workshopped. In fact, some of it I'm downright embarrassed about. I have been, and sometimes still am, guilty of that whole "Oh goodness, look how shocking I'm being! Look how much violence and strangeness I'm throwing into this story! But don't you dare call it Science Fiction or Fantasy! I've clearly grounded this in the real world." thing. I want to avoid that. I have no problem with genre fiction. I read a lot of it. Sometimes I set out to write it. But not owning up to the fact that what you're writing is basically genre is a big problem that I've noticed in my peers. No one wants to be that "nerdy, sci-fi guy."
So what have I been doing? I've been starting with some story ideas. The writing group I was involved in is, for all purposes, dead. I'd love to get into another one, as long as it involved actual workshopping and wasn't some kind of egotistical circlejerk. I'm not saying the last one was; for the most part, it was a reasonable group as far as such things go. But I want real concrete help, and I've got to figure out where to go for that.
As for today, I'm working. Then going home, perhaps writing a little and heading to bed early. I have to be up around 6:30 for a dental appointment. Woo.