A pretty bad-ass day. Not that anything particularly amazing happened…just kind of another day. But occasionally I’ll sort of switch into a third-person perspective, where I’ll almost watch myself navigating through the day as opposed to being completely in my head while I’m doing it…and yeah, there is a lot of badassery going on in even my most mundane days. I need to remind myself to do that more often.
That said, not much of today’s badassery had much to do with a word count, and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to write much tonight. But tomorrow….tomorrow is all writing.
N.P.: “Just Push Play” – Aerosmith
Not as productive today as I have been the last few. But I still managed to get some good ideas down, so I’ll take it. Must now collapse.
N.P.: “Heart’s Done Time” – Aerosmith
Managed to write a few pages at a remote location today (usually I can only work on the book in my room at Hotel California). I’m pleased that things are finally starting to take shape. Hopefully things will come together rather quickly now.
N.P.: “Fortress Around Your Heart” – Sting
A pretty significant source of anxiety recently has been the ever-growing, ever-less-manageable amorphous mess of prose that has been steadily piling up in various files in the vault. I’ve made a couple rather valiant (if I may say so myself) efforts at going in there and tackling the whole mess and sorting through it and trying to figure out what goes where, but those have lasted only briefly before I was sent scrambling for the desk whiskey in the hopes of staving off a panic attack. Needless to say, that tactic has not been successful in the least. So today I decided that I have three books in the works. Two have titles. They now all have tables of contents – at least basic versions of them. Which helps rather a lot. In the few hours since I finished laying out the tables of contents, I’ve been unusually productive. Nothing is quite as helpful on a journey as knowing what the destination is.
N.P.: “Land of Confusion” – Disturbed
I drove through some pretty thick fog this morning, unenthusiastically. Wrote a few things without enthusiasm. Went for a decidedly unenthusiastic walk this afternoon. Am presently eating a bbq’d hot dog with an absolute dearth of enthusiasm. I’m not sure if I should even bother to try writing anything at this point.
We are unenthused.
N.P.: “Faust” – Emigrate
I left my window open last night specifically to be lulled to sleep by the comforting sound of falling rain, and then to be awoken by violent thunderclaps mid-morning today. The rain was both lovely and effective, but this morning: quiet. Only now, hours later, am I hearing distant rumblings, somewhere well to the north of The Creek and Hotel California and me. I guess I’ll take it.
I’m going to try to finish this section of one of the books I’ve been working on today, then I’m going to decamp and head to a nearby Mexican bar to meet up with some old friends, drink large beer, eat meat, and watch the last half of some sort of athletic competition. I’m just going for the beer and the meat.
N.P.: “Miss You” – The Rolling Stones
Ate Death Wings for dinner. Mother of God. That was the hottest my mouth has ever been. Not even sure if I still have lips.
Today was a bit errandy for my tastes, but it had to be done. This, of course, means tomorrow is clear for writing. I’m so far behind.
N.P.: “I’m Shipping Up to Boston” – Dropkick Murphys
I am exhausted. Spent. Kaput. Goodnight.
N.P.: “Tainted Love” – Imelda May
Haven’t written much today, dear reader. Did more talking than writing, which is always weird. There’s still some time left in this day, though, so I’ll see what I can do.
It rained so goddamn hard today…’twas amazing. The skies were black over Anhedonia most of the morning, and once they opened up, I feared for the structural integrity of the skylights. That sort of Old Testament weather shit needs to happen more frequently around here.
N.P.: “Put Me to Work” – Big Data
Right now I have this file and the book file open on this laptop. On my phone I have a third file open, a totally separate writing project. Two sentences on this one, switch to another…a paragraph there, then two sentences here. This is not at all unusual for me. It’s sort of comfortable working that way…if it wasn’t, I’m guessing I wouldn’t do it. But I have to wonder about the consistency of the final product. The unity of voice. I guess we’ll see.
I’ve been unusually productive the last couple of days. It’s probably the rain. I’ve always felt a certain comfort from the rain. It tried to kill me once, the rain. seriously. When I was 12. I haven’t told many people about that. Remind me to tell you sometime when we’re drunk. But yeah, despite that, I still feel somehow comforted, Less alone. Even a bit inspired.
Okay, that was fucking schmaltzy. Perhaps I should just write two things simultaneously. Right. Back to the book. And the other thing.
N.P.: “Eagle Birds” – The Black Keys