Butcher at a Vegetarian Convention

Shark in a Koi Pond, Square Peg in a Round Hole… Whatever “misfit/out-of-place” metaphor you prefer, I have to confess I find myself fending off that feeling more and more recently. Whether it’s at church and I’m wondering when we’re going to move past the drama of good intentions to laboring with intent; at another writer’s group with people who don’t actually write; or encountering yet another discussion on the appropriateness of harsh realities in Christian art/fiction, I have this nagging sense of being out of place.

Perhaps I’m reading things all wrong. Perhaps I’m overly critical and non-conformist. Perhaps a recent spate of deaths and serious surgeries among friends are causing a re-assessment… I’m not sufficiently objective to discern at the moment.

Steven Pressfield’s book “Do the Work” is sitting on my nightstand. I suspect that’s the only answer I’m going to get: press forward and keep at it.

2 Replies to “Butcher at a Vegetarian Convention”

  1. Youre not alone. In some places I feel like we are having the same conversation for what feels like the nine thousandth time.

    I AM sorry that you’re finding yourself in one of these vale of shadows times. That does make all of everything more difficult.

    I do think though that you should write a darkly comic short story about your writing groups full of writers who don’t write. I chuckle whenever the topic comes up. It’s Swiftian.

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