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I'm laughing at myself and my new obsession with being a fishing columnist for a summer newspaper.
Am I a butterfly, flitting from flower to flower, sampling the diversity of life's nectar? Or am I a moth, bonking my head against a window on a summer night?
There is nothing more pleasurable for me than sinking into words. But the problem with 400-word essays is that every 400 words you need to reboot the process.
And, me, I always have to endure a certain amount of circling around and finding my groove before I can settle in to a new task. Like a hunter who has to paint his face with magic symbols before entering the jungle — that's me.
I'm writing, yes — in a jumpy, ADD sort of way. But I also spent time pondering a new e-mail identity in case my fans want to write. (Hey, the URL "fishdiva.com" was available!) I pulled a book off my shelf called "Essayists at Work" — reading about other writers' rituals, anxieties and obsessions is like having a little community. And I reloaded my iPod with the audio version of "The Orchid Thief" by Susan Orlean, for pure creative nonfiction writing inspiration.
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