Here’s something that’s happened with lots of sleep and medication:
The first book — the one, mine, to be written — introduced itself, forcefully. Came right in and sat down in one of the wing chairs and helped itself to tea and wouldn’t go away. Tells me about structure when I feed the cats. Drops idle remarks about past and present, snarks about my inadequacies with Marx as a primary source, makes threatening remarks about exactly when the first intellectual model of the information economy broke, rolls its eyes and shuts up when I ask the (damn) classroom question. Roundly mocks chapters 1, 2, and 5 of the dissertation, and proposes they’re best left behind, especially with all the old stuff on class, and I’ve got a new focus anyway.
And it’s there, in something different from what might have been its old shape and rhythms, but insistent:
Write me, it says.
And you must absolutely obey the voice that says, “Write me.” I’ll be looking forward to having a cup of tea with this book myself some day.
I’m glad to see you posting–are you feeling any better?
I’ll show you mine if you show me yours! Can I see proposal / ideas in progress / musing notes? I am happy to share any of the Thing that I’m currently writing.
So glad it has moved in. That is a great feeling. 🙂
I’m so glad it showed up and started talking to you. Hopefully it won’t require more medication to keep talking!
The ideas are there, yes. Insistent. (And of course, Margs, I’ll share.)
Tripartite (again, of course) organizational scheme, themed a la Benkler (or, OK, imitating Barthes?) around very old foundational texts.
And (OK, I can’t resist) they have a plan.