Hemingway called it 'Black Ass'
If you've followed my blog, you know that I just finished my current Mick Murphy Key West Mystery. I was a month behind a self-imposed deadline. The editor took the first three-quarters of the book and bugged the hell out me waiting for the rest. She finally got it (and never had the decency to thank me, only bill me! Editors!) the first week of November, finished editing the last few chapters quickly. I followed most of her suggested corrections and had the book on Kindle before Thanksgiving, thankfully.
Then I formatted it for Amazon's CreateSpace and hoped to have proofs or copies before I left December 1 for the cold Northeast to visit family. What a screw up. I formatted and sent it off only to find out that going to 5.5×8.5-inch format from 8×10 caused some line problems. I discovered them right away when I got the first proof, fixed them, and sent off for another proof. It actually looked like I'd get copies for my family before I left.
Yeah, it looked like is the important phrase here. The book came two weeks late. When I it hadn't arrived at the due date, I called CreateSpace. They gave me full credit because the delay fell on the shipper and I ordered six copies extra to be delivered to my daughter's home in NJ.
They arrived before I did. Shippers!
With all the screw-ups between Thanksgiving and my return to Key West, I didn't have much time to give thought to not having a writing project. I knew that before I finished Stairway to the Bottom I'd decided to catch up on my reading – I believe I'm into the early '90s list of books now.
I am a Hemingway Society member, so you know I've ready the bios as well as his stories. I remember in Hemingway's letters, he wrote about his 'black ass' condition. Today, of course, we know he was dealing with depression. The late '50s/'60s it wasn't as open a subject as it is today. Don't laugh. When I had a bout with cancer in the early '70s, I wasn't allowed back into my office because people were afraid I was contagious! Stupid now, right? But the norm back then. So it was with depression – so it may still be . . .
I remember that Hemingway had these 'black ass' moods when he wasn't writing. He fished, drank, even went to Africa to hunt. He wrote many letters, but it wasn't the same. In Key West, he often wrote in the morning, fished in the afternoon and drank in the evening. No 'black ass.' Take the writing out of his routine and you'll find the 'black ass.'
I mention this because I am now about six weeks without writing. I have a short story planed for January and my third 'lost manuscript' to rewrite and put an ending on before June. I thought the daily reading, a lot of reading, was what I wanted. I love reading, almost as much as writing, but I've found my own form of 'black ass' since my routine changed.
There are many things in the Keys to distract me, keep me busy besides reading, but they don't work to change my anxiousness. I've promised myself the month for reading, but have written notes for the short story, even changed the ending and I ain't even writ the opening!
I've also formatted the WordPerfect doc into Word.doc for the chapters I wrote back in Mexico for the last 'lost manuscript' and after doing that I had to fight the temptation to read the thing through. I've got that set for January afternoons, when I've put the short story away.
I wonder if other writers have this same problem in-between writing projects? Maybe that's why so many creative people drink or do drugs? Maybe they are looking for something to fill that void that daily writing fills and when the story is finished, and we're glad it's done, the void looks for something else to take its place.
Hemingway called it his 'black ass' and knew he had them moods and he was difficult to deal with. If you've read a good bio on him, you understand. I don't like to think of it as my depression, but maybe it makes me anxious as the year ends and I know I can begin my routine Jan. 1, 2012. It must be how an alcoholic feels walking by a bar and he needs, or she needs so I'm politically correct, to get to the bank to cash the paycheck!
What's keeping me from doing my next project now, you ask. Shame on you! I made myself a promise and if I can't keep a promise to myself why should you ever believe me? I also promised myself to avoid this downtime with the next book. I have also learned not to finish a project close to a holiday!
If you're a writer, let me know what you do between books or short stories. Maybe we can have a drink and talk about it.
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