What a week.
Borrowed from the LA Times—photo has a link to a beautiful article. Please click on the photo and read it.
Ahhh, Dear Reader, thank you for waiting on bated breath for my next update. I’ll try not to be as lax as I was this past week, but I’m sure when I explain myself, you’ll understand. Maybe you’ll even empathize. You might even commiserate.
To start, I was a little burned out physically from the 3-Day Novel contest I participated in over the Labour Day weekend. The writing most certainly was labour, that’s for sure. It was probably 8-10 hours a day sitting at the computer and writing. I constructed a loose outline and let it rip. In past years, I was hyper-focused and, I think, probably taking it a little too SERIOUSLY. Of course, anything you want to do well at, you need to take seriously, but I also think it’s really important to find the cusp where you take it seriously without being SERIOUS about it. This year, I did some yoga, I took a nap, I made a pizza, I went out for a burger, etc. and while I was about 1500ish words short of my target on the Sunday, the Saturday and Monday I exceeded my target writing number of 10,000 words and I was pretty happy about that. I feel like I didn’t overwork the material, and, yeah, there are some pieces I maybe could have polished a bit more or come at a bit differently, but who cares. I have (somewhat) learned to not totally abuse myself over perceived errors or whatever. I think I have developed a tiny piece of perspective. A TINY piece, so don’t get too excited.
Now, more importantly than computer fatigue that kept me away from writing about my thoughts was the tragic, tragic loss of Michael K. Williams (here is a beautifully written article about him on CNN); I was working away on The Novel when my partner alerted me about The News and I remember saying, “Noooooooooo.” Like the linked article above, there are going to be a great many better written and sharper articles about the late Mr. Williams than I can write, and I don’t mean to try and write anything comparable. What I do want to do is try and share the impact Mr. Williams had on me. Probably like a lot of people, my first introduction to him was in the inimitable role of Omar Little; if you’re unfamiliar with The Wire, I’d advise to get familiar with The Wire. To deviate for a moment, aside from Michael K. Williams’ absolutely riveting and breathtaking performance as Omar, there are no weak links in the cast; there are no moments of big-gulps-huh-welp-see-ya-later; when we’re talking modern, American dramatic television there are no doubts that The Wire sits on the same level as The Sopranos, and there aren’t many series that can occupy that same airspace. Through Omar Little, Michael K. Williams provided a point of gravity in every scene around which everything could revolve. To sprinkle in an NBA reference, watching Mr. Williams act was like watching Hakeem Olajuwon on the basketball court; he didn’t dominate the action unless he needed to dominate the action, and his sheer presence seemed to allow his peers to move more freely, to take chances, to push the envelope while knowing he would be there to ensure everything still came up on top. Maybe that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to anyone but me, I don’t know. What I do know is I’ve spent the last few days really tripping on it all. Obviously, their roles and the tv series in which they existed and the impacts they had were different, but the loss of Michael K. Williams is up there with James Gandolfini, another absolute monolith of acting. I’ve been deeply, deeply bummed out, to say the least.
Stay safe out there, everyone.
