So I can’t multitask. Last year I directed a play, which was a bracing creative challenge, but doing so derailed my writing. I found I really only had the mental energy for one big creative project at a time, and ended up feeling really estranged from not only blogging, but from the community of friends I’d developed online.
It was this second part of the equation that stung the most — I miss everyone. I miss the immediacy of commenting on your work, and frankly, I miss hearing that something I wrote cracked you up. And I miss feeling like a productive part of Funny not Slutty, because being part of that team is like playing for the Yankees to me. (If the Yankees were take-no-prisoners, kick-ass funny, estrogen producers.)
When I started Kablooey, I called it a “one year quest to make creative work a central part of my life.” That was my goal, and in large measure, I reached it. I got back to directing, which is what I’m trained to do, and I started writing again, which proved a lot more fun when I took away the (imposed) pressure of trying to write 100 page screenplays.
This summer, I planned to get serious about writing funny — to throw myself back into blogging. I figured I’d try to get directing work in the spring, which was far enough away to not be an anxiety-provoking notion (this, the effing anxiety, is truly a whole other major subject I need to talk to you about sometime,) and in the meanwhile, I’d become a better blogger and more supportive member of my beloved blogworld.
Then the chance to direct a really funny play came up, and even though the time was wrong (in my head — it’s scary in here), Phin cut through my mental clutter with a directive “Go for it; we’ll make it work,” so I did. And got the job.
So that’s why I’m still AWOL. Because I can’t walk (and when I say walk, I mean blog) and chew gum (when I say chew gum, I mean direct) at the same time.
I’m going to try to keep up with your blogs, your lives, and stay on life support over at Funny not Slutty, but if it means that this blog becomes a weed-choked patch of neglect, then it will have to be OK. For right now, that’s the best I can do. I really do miss everybody, though.