Tuesday, April 30, 2013

huh.


I did a mental calculation of words written on my walk home last night. I think I'm up to about 45 000 words. That's my prologue, half of chapter one (including a sprawling lit review that I loathe and am loathe to wrangle into some semblance of okay writing), all of chapter two, all of chapter three and 6000 words of chapter four. I think my five chapters may have become six chapters upon the discovery of a notebook I forgot I kept last year. 
And I am at 210 references in my EndNote. And all these numbers don't really mean much, when you look long and hard at them, because what I'm hoping for, after all, is good writing, rigorous thinking, elegant expression. But on days like this, when even the thought of opening that same Word file again is wearying, the numbers sure do make me feel like there's solid ground behind me. That I'm over halfway.



*In this context, the ad is less an intended plug for Jil Sander and more an admiration for the image and her sinuous, weary or head-scratching pose. Interesting to me that in this image you can't make out much of the clothing- an idea, an image being what's advertised, then, rather than the garment. The you in the clothes that this label can create. Also, why am I spending so much time on a footnote? And asking myself rhetorical questions where all of you can see? 

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