New Site, New First Post

(If you’ve been here before, you may have noticed some big changes to the site. What can I say? It’s time for a fresh start.)

I had intended, way back in January, to start updating my blog regularly. I had intended to do a lot of things in 2018, but, as usual, Life (and more specifically chronic fatigue syndrome) thwarted my intentions. But I am here now: a freshly minted MFA, taking a few weeks off from life to bask in my accomplishment, rest, and attempt to get my life in order before I embark on the Next Big Thing. For the time being, that includes doing a little blogging.

I have no idea what my personal brand is, or what I’ll be writing about here. Historically, I’ve written about personal epiphanies and the heart-wrenching joys and miseries of writing. Maybe I’ll keep doing that. But I’d like to do it in a way that, like the fiction I strive to write, has something more to offer than just my own personal catharsis (though, let’s be honest, that is the main reason to journal at all).

So. Who is this person journaling today? I like to think she’s different from the person who started this website, years and years ago. Different enough to warrant taking the whole thing down and starting from scratch, at least. I’m a Mistress of Fine Arts, for one (#sorrynotsorry but I’ll be bringing that up quite often for a while), and still grasping with that new identity, even though I spent the last 2 years working my butt off for the degree. In fact, “working my butt off for my MFA” has been my identity for the last 2 years, so there’s a big adjustment in the ending of that phase alone.

I guess that’s why I’m here, really. I’m trying on a new identity, that of a person who might have something worth saying outside of an academic setting. An unpublished writer developing her brand (and a big part of my brand is always going to be transparency). A 30-something woman managing chronic fatigue, a full-time job, and a fledgling writing career, while continuously trying to uncover and develop her authentic self.

Authenticity has been a big-ticket item on my mind for as long as I’ve been alive. Amazing, then, that my own authentic self could become so muddled and obfuscated over the course of my life–but not so surprising, really, when you consider how our culture informs a girl’s/woman’s sense of self. But I’m dismantling all of that, now. Day by day, I’m questioning the way I operate, how and what I desire, how I perceive myself, my roles in my relationships with others. It’s hard work, but worth it.

There have been big changes over the years, and there are still big changes happening. That’s probably why this new first entry is broad and vague and rambling. But then again, maybe not.

Things on my mind lately that I might be blogging about soon in no particular order:

  • Only reading female authors
  • Why “self-improvement” is toxic
  • The phoenix cycle is everything, I don’t care if you think it’s a cliché
  • Runcible witchery
  • The VCFA WCYA experience!
  • Words that feel good in your mouth
  • Recipes, because I’m a Taurus and apparently we’re all hedonists
  • What’s scarier, ghosts or psychosis?
  • I’m concerned about my family members reading this blog.

And more, probably. Who knows when inspiration will strike!

Anyway, that’s all for now. Enjoy this dramatic picture of my son:

Rusty, AKA Boof, AKA Lord Boofington, AKA The Beast of Boofington Hill
Rusty, AKA Boof, AKA Lord Boofington, AKA The Beast of Boofington Hill