Keeping track of impressions. Reconfiguring vanity plates and bumper stickers into highway haiku. A white windowless van passes us. The message on the rear door reads: Behind this door lies a disease for which there is no cure. We wander under very tall trees and get dizzy from gazing up through a dazzle of pine boughs into blue pools of sky and the underbellies of high cirrus.
Only a short half-hour of writing this morning (so far) but read a cool profile of Daphne Du Maurier today (On Gawker, of all places.). She wrote Rebecca and The Birds among other books and was apparently very cool. She was an aristocrat who locked herself in rooms of a crumbling, rat-filled estate to write while her kids and livestock ran wild in the rest of the house. Now I can't possibly write until I get my own crumbling country estate.
2 hours. 1000 words. Write a poem in traffic and waiting outside the school for kindergarten to let out. Tried to feel like Nabokov while writing on an index in my car. Wrote a novel sketch I will probably abandon. Read some Chiappone stories. Tried to feel like Chiappone.
Thought I would not get any writing done, due to spending the majority of the day wandering around the big city with a visiting friend, waiting for my car to get out of the shop. Surprised myself this evening by actually writing about 650 coherent words of a critical response. Also wrote about a page in the journal. Not so much creative stuff, but new ideas about how to do creative stuff based on the critical response stuff. So, good.
Wrote for about 1.5 hours this evening with a pencil. I was writing writing related stuff, without the actual creative writing taking place. It's complicated, but in a good way.
Yeah! Spent the whole day writing and revising. Completed my revisions on Prologue-Chapter 3. Amazing how giddy I feel when I spend the day doing something for myself.
Keeping track of impressions. Reconfiguring vanity plates and bumper stickers into highway haiku. A white windowless van passes us. The message on the rear door reads: Behind this door lies a disease for which there is no cure. We wander under very tall trees and get dizzy from gazing up through a dazzle of pine boughs into blue pools of sky and the underbellies of high cirrus.
ReplyDelete--jonna
Only a short half-hour of writing this morning (so far) but read a cool profile of Daphne Du Maurier today (On Gawker, of all places.). She wrote Rebecca and The Birds among other books and was apparently very cool. She was an aristocrat who locked herself in rooms of a crumbling, rat-filled estate to write while her kids and livestock ran wild in the rest of the house. Now I can't possibly write until I get my own crumbling country estate.
ReplyDeleteRevised up from ~2100 to ~2200 words. None new. Journaling sparse. Spammed stories ~10, some simultaneous, to calls for submissions.
ReplyDeleteAlso finished David Stevenson's book "Letters from Chamonix" which everyone should go buy and read and love because it is Art-tier writing.
2 hours. 1000 words. Write a poem in traffic and waiting outside the school for kindergarten to let out. Tried to feel like Nabokov while writing on an index in my car. Wrote a novel sketch I will probably abandon. Read some Chiappone stories. Tried to feel like Chiappone.
ReplyDeleteThought I would not get any writing done, due to spending the majority of the day wandering around the big city with a visiting friend, waiting for my car to get out of the shop. Surprised myself this evening by actually writing about 650 coherent words of a critical response. Also wrote about a page in the journal. Not so much creative stuff, but new ideas about how to do creative stuff based on the critical response stuff. So, good.
ReplyDeleteWrote for about 1.5 hours this evening with a pencil. I was writing writing related stuff, without the actual creative writing taking place. It's complicated, but in a good way.
ReplyDeleteYeah! Spent the whole day writing and revising. Completed my revisions on Prologue-Chapter 3. Amazing how giddy I feel when I spend the day doing something for myself.
ReplyDelete