Most of the last 10,000 words I wrote somewhere between Portland and the Bay while Lex drove. Lex is from Croatia and from craigslist and as a European or human being was excited about America and free refills and the state line. This is probably a good thing to spend some hours with sometime. It doesn’t [...]
Yearly Archives: 2009
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So then I had to tell a stranger what I was trying to do and it was easier than I thought but mostly he just wanted to talk and within two minutes I’d learned he’d been four years sober and then the lady across from me asked him to please stop talking
Last night I passed 3000 words making this the longest fiction thing I’ve ever written and there are still 16 times that to go. It is vastly more painfully obvious how quick I am to delete things. It also feels like it is trying too hard but that’s because it is trying too hard.
So far [...]
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Tom Stoppard, The Real Thing
A small quickening. The room responds slightly to being entered. Like a raised blind.
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I felt bad this weekend
At Lucky’s at 11:30pm where I get oreos, these stupid things, and that glamour mag with the normal girls there are a lot of people in the store, a strange amount of kids. I’m not at all curious. At home my roommate’s not around and I go back to sleeping on the couch even though [...]
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A note
For the last month I’ve been helping out the remarkable people at the Office of Letters and Light in preparation for National Novel Writing Month, and have decided to also participate, and am now breaking some arbitrary rules to not write about writing and to not write about not writing: things are about to get [...]
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Curtis White Takes Issue
“Excuse me. I know I have pledged suspended disbelief to this narrative, and I’m trying to be a good sport about it, but incredulity asks for a moment in which to say its piece. Incredulity says, ‘What ‘old village’ are you referring to? And why do you imagine that the idea of returning there cozens [...]
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Paula Fox, Desperate Characters
She grew arrowy. “You look like an arrow,” he said.
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Self-assurance
We’ve filled up the room with dead horses, though we’re poor small things. I don’t have an answer. I stand, run my fingers between the tiles, her feet swinging from the counters while we’re drawing the same line back and forth until we’ve both become inaudible.
The day before we were accidental witnesses to a man [...]
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