Concept: Where Is That Deep End Of Which You Speak?

I've been having dizzy spells lately.

I hadn't had one in years and then about a month ago, at a reading, during an almost claustrophobically erotic piece by a friend of mine, I suddenly saw stars and felt like I would pass out. I remember being worried that I would collapse and people would think it was in response to the very visceral imagery.

A few days ago, I had another spell, and now I'm having a third.

It sucks, and slightly concerns me.

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I've been writing some friends copious emails talking about a wide range of subjects including: academia, literary theory, art, society, blah blah blah. It all comes down to the fact that, while there are a number of outstanding projects, I've spent the last several years developing a battery I can fall back upon. A novel (Hungry Rats), short stories (including The Silurians), and plays (including Canaryville Blues). I'm still working onthese, but part of this battery is that I can work on such writing for a few hours a week and continue to submit it while dividing the rest of my attention between two projects in which I'm investing the greatest hopes for my career. They aren't strangers. They are Urbantasm, a novel I drafted when I was seventeen and eighteen, and the Gothic Funk Nation.

I'm getting ready to swim in these deep waters again, and I'm looking for some advice as I do so. Next week I will write about Urbantasm and follow up with Gothic Funk.

I will be very interested to hear what you think.