keeping us here

I spent the morning listening to CBC Radio, as is usual. Well, I was working - but I was also tuned in to hear Jian interview one of my favourite writers. Douglas Coupland. His unique writing style is engaging, slightly sarcastic and assumes a level of knowledge in his audience. I love it.

Douglas was talking about his new book, "Generation A". I must admit that I haven't done any investigation into his latest work, and that disturbed me a bit. I mean, I'm a writer - or aspiring to be one - and I'm not even keeping my finger on the pulse of the writing community that I am desperate to be part of. Well, not desperate. Anxious might be a better descriptor. Regardless, I have left the helm of my search vessel and am floating randomly at sea.

I need direction. I crave direction.

I also need space, time and the freedom to wander. One of the most difficult hurdles in this path of following one's voice is just that: I can't seem to allow myself the unknown amount of time, space or freedom to explore. The corporate culture that I flirt with to pay the trappings of my existence has curtailed the devil-may-care attitude; instead, it's encouraging this deadline-oriented psycopathy.

Oh no. Where do I go from here?

Well, I blog here. And I tweet on Twitter. I've also just written a draft of a manifesto which addresses the debilitating reduction of funding to the B.C. Arts & Culture community.

And I wait.

I wait for the voice to push out from inside, demanding to be acknowledged and ignoring all of the milestones, markers or dates I have previously circled in the calendar of my mind. Touchstones of progress. Status updates and project reports. Works-in-progress summaries.

Sometimes, I start by writing a sentence about listening to my favourite author on CBC Radio and I watch where it leads me.

I'll plant the seeds now for future blogs. Thinking about why I started this and what I intended to do with it. Tell the story of OWS; not just how I got here, but also how I live here. Being here is just as vital as getting here. Maybe it's more important, because it's right now.

The stories of OWS weave in and out, take you back in time with me to my youth and development (okay, maybe not the gangly parts). We lurch forward to the now, bring you into the garage with my sweetie as I hear him argue with the door panel of a 1964 Buick. Maybe we'll project into the future, but hopefully not too much.

Here is the now: I have submitted two draft works of writing to my friend Jim who was looking for the legalese of his website to be made 'fun'; a manifesto sits brewing on the hard drive, waiting for introduction at a local writer's group I'm to attend on Thursday; I'm anxious about bowling tomorrow night for the first time in ages; and, Ian is still arguing with the Buick.

Douglas Coupland, expressing today the concern that he would become the narrator in the heads of his audience, is indeed milling around inside my head. He's got company with the critic that's been working on editing my manifesto. Hopefully Douglas can reason with the critic, and maybe keep her quiet for a while. I'd love another narrator for a few days.

To the things that keep us here, just as much as the ones that get us here. Cheers.


~ Jeannette