I've been in a bit of a funk the past couple of days. I don't know if it's the autumn gloom rolling in and pouring all over everything, or the unclean smell of cold Crescent street garbage, or the fact that I haven't been writing. At any rate, I've been here before: usually it's the funk of the tidal pool left behind after I finish a big project. I spend so long flooded with one idea, one story, one fabricated world and the people who inhabit it, that when it's done and the whole thing drains out of my head, I'm left splashing around in the puddles and fetid pools left in my brain, trying to figure out what to do when the tide of creativity comes back in.

I think the next thing will be to finish this New Orleans Crime Noir novella I've been working on. I reread what I've got so far just last Friday, and wrote a short scene. (I think this novella may be the best thing I've ever written, but I also think I think that about everything I happen to be working on at any given moment.)

Instead of writing, I've been eating a lot of ice cream, drinking a lot of tiki drinks, and cooking a lot. I made quinoa veggie burgers for lunch today, and another batch of the most addictive salsa in the world for dinner. (Bird got the recipe from a former co-worker of hers. I'll put the recipe at the end of this blog post, but be warned: in-between batches, you'll be scratching your arms and watching imaginary bugs crawl all over the walls. It's a lifetime habit after one bite.)

I tried my hand at Scottish Tattie Scones and sausages for breakfast on Saturday, and they seem to have been a hit. They're like little pancakes/crepes made out of potatoes, flour, and eggs, and they're surprisingly versatile--I love them with jam, Bird prefers them with smoked kielbasa.

Let's see. What else have I been doing to avoid writing?

I suppose that's not entirely fair. I did finally finish The Wolves of Dresden, the first screenplay I ever attempted. It's sent off to the United States Copyright Office right now, to secure a registered copyright before I submit it to any film festivals. It's 119 pages, and I'm actually quite happy with it--it's big and violent and sad and odd, and the sort of thing I'd like to watch. I'm finding myself writing more and more for myself just lately, and--perhaps unsurprisingly--I'm also finding myself liking my writing more as well.

Silk bathrobes. That's what I've been doing tonight to avoid working on anything meaningful. Particularly this bathrobe, by Derek Rose:

Pure silk. Shawl collar. And it's only $700.

And it hasn't been all time wasted, either: Bird and I finally got Chat-Man and Robin on iTunes! We've been more or less on time with our last two episodes, and I think they're both pretty funny. It feels good to be back behind a mic and laughing with my wonderful wife. (You can subscribe to the podcast HERE.)

Speaking of Bird, she's got a new website all her own. It's much prettier than mine, and full of art she's done. She has her own blog over there as well, and I am extremely jealous of her. Don't tell. (You can go see her website HERE.)

You know what? Just writing this has sort of helped. It's not earth-shattering stuff, but it's better than another pint of Ben & Jerry's and another episode of Sherlock and another goddamn delicious Chi Chi. Sometimes just sitting down to write is an act of rebellion. Writing is refusing to die just yet. A couple words can be the cough that cuts through the thick sick-room caul of procrastination between you and a good story. So tomorrow I'm going to write. I have the whole day off, and plenty of notes on the story to help me along. (My detective, a very clever woman bashing about the French Quarter in New Orleans, is about to go visit her benefactor at his mansion, engage in dangerous banter with his head of security and probably drink a lot.)

Besides. The salsa is already made.

Kayo's Lifelong Habit-Forming Salsa:
2 cans black beans, drained and rinsed
1 can white shoepeg corn, with juice
1/2 red onion, chopped
1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
6 Tbsp. olive oil
6Tbsp. fresh lime juice
1 1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1 tsp. salt
3-4 tomatoes, seeded and diced

Mix all but tomatoes the night before. Add tomatoes and stir just before serving. Watch Breaking Bad or The Panic in Needle Park while eating, because you're a junkie, now.

--m.