No, I’m not delusional. I do, in fact, realize that it is Monday.
I’ve written a lot this week…
(golf claps all around)
…just not much in the way of fiction.
(boo)
Nope, this week has been devoted to the life and times of Thomas Hobbes. The excitement is overwhelming, I know. I feel largely the same and I’ve only myself to blame. As a returning student, and one familiar with this project, my Western Civilization professor allowed me (and two others) to pick my topic, in exchange for presenting first. There is always a catch. I tried to choose wisely, but my choices were limited. He gives out topics as they relate to his lectures and schedules the presentations throughout the semester to coincide with such. Ergo, I had a very short list from which to choose. Thomas Hobbes, John Locke, or the War of Austrian Succession.
Hmmm…
I must admit, this is not necessarily my favorite part of Western history – the English Civil Wars and the Enlightenment. I much prefer Imperial Rome or the Renaissance or the Cold War to the happenings of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. But, such is life.
I didn’t particularly liked this Hobbes fellow, though I understand his place in western society and his contemporary relevance. I wouldn’t want to live in his world, or be ruled according to his Leviathan. I fear it would be a dank and dismiss existence. Having said that, in my research, I discovered some rather humanistic qualities about him that I found intriguing. He played tennis until he was 75, he loved to sing, and he wrote poetry – not good poetry, but it is something.
So…my goals…
Last weeks goal – make progress on short story: Goal met.
I finished the set up, brought a few pages for my writing group to critique, and outlined the next section of the story. Hopefully, I will be able to decipher the chicken scratch that is my handwritten outline.
This week’s goal – finish up the next section and present it to the writing group for critique.
Wish me luck this week. I am not a confident speaker, in fact, it scares the shit out of me. This time tomorrow I will be sweating like a pig, shaking like a leaf, and wishing the buzzing in my ears would stop so that I could hear myself speak.
Of Bears and Boating 