Many thanks to those of you who have written in the past few weeks to ask how I am doing. It has, obviously, been a quiet time for me. I’ve been doing a lot of reading, and thinking, and writing for myself, but not writing with the goal of publishing anything.

It has not been a bleak time. It has just been a very private and quiet time. I do keep a journal (I’m sort of obsessive about it) but I don’t keep what people call a “gratitude journal.” (A gratitude journal, as the name implies, is a book where you record daily or weekly the things that make you happy.) But I’ve noticed I’ve been keeping something of a gratitude journal in my head.

Here are the things that have put a smile on my face in recent weeks:

• Seeing small dogs in cute winter jackets
• Drinking too much tea (for the record, it’s Tetley Orange Pekoe)
• Taking the train to Ottawa and watching the landscape roll by
• Kicking my way through orange and yellow autumn leaves
• Having dinner with a friend I hadn’t seen in ages
• Reading. Reading. Reading. (Specifically recommended: Rin Tin Tin by Susan Orlean, and State of Wonder by Ann Patchett — both of these books are superb.)
• Toying with the idea of getting an 8 year old border collie
• Long talks with Hodgie
• Fiddling with notes for Book The Second

So it has certainly not been all bad. I think the change of seasons has helped enormously. The separation from D happened at the start of summer, and then summer hit and all that heat and humidity was just oppressive (and it had the visceral effect of reminding me I was no longer in cool, misty Newfoundland). Now that fall is here I feel as though I’ve made some progress.

I *will* make the effort to blog more. I like being in touch — it’s just been a strange and difficult season. More to follow….

Never before have I had such trouble getting thoughts done on paper (or on the screen). I think this has a lot to do with post-separation isolation. Writer’s block was one of the things that scared me when Danielle announced that she was leaving me. On top of everything else I was facing — the separation agreement, the chaos around the house, the goodbyes to all the pets — at the back of my mind I thought, “I’m not going to be able to write.”

That was three months ago, and I’ve barely written a word since. I can journal, which is a relief and a blessing, but I can’t think about publishing anything. Publishing feels so exposed, so risky, so…public.

If I had any doubts about the relationship between loneliness and creativity, they are over. It is hard (impossible?) to be creative when intensely lonely. I can read, and I can journal, but I just can’t write. I know what the problem is: I need a sense of emotional security in order to feel creative, and I just don’t have that right now. I feel vulnerable and insecure, and those feelings choke out anything that might be interesting, fruitful or new.

I am, however, going to make a renewed pledge to blog. A blog is a nice mid-point between a diary and a published piece of writing. I figure if I can blog at least once a week, that is a sign of some progress, and I think I have to be measuring progress in very small steps right now.

So please stay tuned…more blog posts to follow as I try to work my way through through isolation and towards (hopefully) the ability to write once more.

Figured, this morning, that this drifting had to stop. So I just started writing Book The Second. Just sat down and wrote. This is my first major piece of work post Lonely, and I felt a bit rusty at first, as though I didn’t have a clear map of where I was going. But soon enough old writing habits settled back in and I found that I was enjoying myself!

Will keep you all posted re next book, as it materializes (I know my editor likes the idea, so I’m feeling hopeful). And, the blog is re-activated. About Twitter, I don’t know…but the blog will be happening once more!

Am now snapping out of my reverie, and will start blogging once more. Also, if you posted to the blog and wondered why your message didn’t appear, there was a technical glitch — I wasn’t receiving notices that new notes had been sent. I was wondering where everyone was! I now know that the glitch is there, so messages will be posted once again. Thanks for your patience!

It’s because I would so much love to write about a subject that’s socially “easy” that I keep changing the pitch. I’m reading The Happiness Project now (it’s good, but a bit uninformed when it comes to the subject of sociability). And I think about writing a book about happiness. How flippin’ fantastic is that? You could go to a party, tell someone what you’re writing about, and a cheerful, easy conversation would ensue.

You have to understand what I went through with Lonely. I’d say that I was writing about chronic loneliness, and people would freeze. Or walk away. Or laugh in this nervous, high-pitched way. They would clearly not want to have a discussion about the subject. The topic made people uncomfortable, and I was often viewed with outright suspicion for being interested in something so taboo.

The thought of sticking with loneliness and putting myself through that once again is a bit exhausting. I’d love to write a book about something non-stigmatized, like kittens, or interior design, or cake recipes. But–as I think I just realized today, while I was sipping tea in my office–I also have to understand my own life, and the lives of people I hear from. And if loneliness and isolation characterize those lives, then that’s what I have to address, right?

Thanks to all of you for your support of my odd writing projects. Hearing from people helps me handle the stigma. I’ll post again soon, with more details about the next book, after I talk to my agent, which should be some time next week. Keep well!

I’m happy to report that the day and the reading went well. There seemed to be a responsiveness among people when I mentioned the words “long term loneliness.” I know that not everyone in the audience had experienced such loneliness, but there seemed to be a real willingness to listen as I talked about what had happened to me. People applauded at the end, and that was just the best.

The reading felt like something of an anniversary. Lonely came out almost exactly a year ago. That means I’ve spent almost twelve months talking about loneliness, either through blogging, or interviews, or editorials. The reading was sort of the crowning achievement of my year. I realized that, after 12 months, I was calm talking about loneliness. I was ready. And that’s an accomplishment. It’s not anything, six years ago, that I thought I’d ever be able to do.

I hope that everyone had a good new year, and I look forward to building this site and continuing our discussion about loneliness in the coming year.

I still have some problems with the whole “Solitude” issue, but I’m pleased that the book is going to have a single name and look as it moves into paperback phase. It’s a bit confusing, as a writer, to have one book with different jackets and different subtitles. (I spend a lot of time saying, “It’s the same book!”).

I don’t understand what the problem is. I mean, I’ve written a 350 page book, and I have no problem blogging. I write every day. But I open my Twitter account, see the little box for the message, and my mind goes blank. This never happens to me. I can write anything. I once faked my way through a securities exam by simply writing down whatever came to mind (and I passed!).

I think the problem is not the message so much as the medium. I find it very strange to know that my thoughts and observances are linked to other people’s networks, and to know that they can be read, searched, and forwarded. Some people probably find this liberating. I find it kind of freaky. And Twitter is not the place to talk about loneliness. I’m good at talking about loneliness. But I can not talk about my loneliness, or social isolation, or anything else “uncool” on Twitter.

Why not? Is the problem me, or is the problem the “network” aspect of the medium? Am I simply replicating online what I do in real life? In real life, I retreat, I leave parties early, I don’t open up to strangers. Am I just doing the same thing on Twitter? Or is there a “majority rules” aspect to social media, one that has the effect of silencing odd or dissenting voices?

I really don’t know what the answer is. I am going to try to continue Twittering: don’t give up on me! But I will close by saying that I completely relate to what several readers have said, which is that social media really open the doors on other people’s lives, and it’s hard not to feel as though your own social life doesn’t live up to what’s “normal.” To counter this feeling, I will close with a stat I just read, which is that roughly 40% of info posted on social networking sites is false…. Hmmm…. maybe this is it. Maybe I just haven’t cottoned on to the fact that not everything you say online has to be true. Maybe I’ll create an “alternate” Emily White, who has 500 friends, and a party every night, and…you can see where I’m going here…Twittering would become easy!