There and back again...

Back from Albuquerque. Long weekend of friends and relatives. Weather was beautiful, down and up. San Luis valley magnificent. Like a series of Gustave Baumann woodcuts. Rich with color. Beautifully somber.

Happy be back home with the kitties.

Ready a fine story by Paul Byall, “The Genie at Low Tide” this morning. Published in Ploughshares “Solos” volume 2. Need to find more of his work. Think he has a novel coming out soon.

Son coming into Denver tomorrow afternoon. Looking forward to catching up with him. Half day tomorrow at the office, fishing all day Tuesday. First time in a long, long time we’ll have been on the water together.

On Leaves and leaving...

One more in a long, long line of autumn days. Maybe the best yet. Temps in the seventies. Warm and sunny. Leaves tumbling down out of the sky, red and yellow. Took a long walk and couldn't get enough.

More work at the office. No time to sit with a story, but the day’s not over. Maybe work in a few lines this evening, before dinner. Three pieces sent out this week—one new, two revised—so no need to hurry on anything. Just get it right. Besides, big game tonight. Cards down, needing a comeback to stay in it.

Trip to Albuquerque tomorrow. Five hours on the road. There through Sunday, then back again. D arrives on Monday. Stays through Thursday morning. Next six or seven days lost to any serious writing time, but will make up for it late next week. Need to pay a visit to the library to do some research. Legwork on a new novel.

 

Gassed...

Long day at the office.

Drafted an article for the new commercial project. Goes out the door tomorrow.

Out the door this morning, a new draft of an old story. A good feeling, moving on.

Beat.

Going home.

 

 

 

Stepping up to the Plate...

Early doings at the office. Research for a new commercial project.

Indian summer came back by mid-morning with temps straining toward seventy. Skies clear and blue and full of light. Wish I’d been kicking around in the mountains, but not much chance of that for while. Too many comings and goings.

NLCS game between SF and St. Louis last night was a great one. Tied in the bottom of the ninth, and the first batter up (Wong) hits a homer to right field. Series tied at one game each. Hope it stays tight.

Finished the re-write of yet another existing piece today. Or maybe a better way of saying it, I’m so sick of this story I can’t bear to work on it any longer. Either way, it’s as good as it’s going to get. So tomorrow it goes in the mail.

Out walking today, I was thinking of all the fist readers who’ve pushed an editor to take a second look at a story. Or who’ve gone on to champion a piece no one else believed in. Man, those people are something special.

 

Darkness into light...

Woke just after 3:30 am with terrible nightmares. A trend during the past two weeks. Not sure what’s bringing them on, but would welcome the grace of a good night’s sleep.

Cool today with overcast skies, but nothing to dampen the spirits. Got in some good revision work on one story, solid draft work on another. Meantime, found a few moments to read a remarkably good bit of short fiction by Daniel Alarcon, “The Provincials.”

Looking forward to mailing out some new drafts tomorrow. Maybe driving into the mountains to do some fishing if the weather cheers up. Tonight, dinner with family. (A rumor of steak!)

out of my hands...

Rain. All day. Temps falling into the 50s. Expect when it’s over all the leaves will have either fallen or turned a sullen dark brown.

Worked at the office all afternoon, writing a magazine article. Before that, revising a story. Before that, reading the paper over a cup of coffee.

Time to step on the gas, and get some pieces back in circulation. Tomorrow’s the start. “Occurrence at the Night Owl Liquor Store” leaves my hands.

All's right with the world...

Slept well. Got some project work out of the way, went for a walk, dawdled here and there, and put in some reading time. (Günther Grass’s Crabwalk.) Went to gym, hit the bag a while, then came home to do some research. Another (is this beginning to sound repetitive?) postcard autumn day. 

Just coasting along...

Early morning meeting, two hours out the window. Silver lining? Another gorgeous fall day. Woke up just before three last night and got a few more revisions in place. Final revisions. New-old story will be out the door by Friday, looking for a home the second time around.

Got in a nice walk this afternoon. Wrote the intro letter for FH magazine when I returned. Didn’t think I’d have the punch to get it done, but everything turned out all right in the end. Nothing like the fear of missing a deadline to clear the mind of distractions.

A Hodgepodge of things...

One of those Mondays. A hodgepodge of small things buzzing around your head with the lazy tenacity of houseflies. Refusing to be swatted, but refusing just as strenuously to be backed off.

Got some good revisions in on a new-old piece that’s ready to be sent back out. This time I think it’s there.

Temps were perfect again, as was the day itself. I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed the fall sun so much. Gave the lawn a ballpark cut yesterday, then winterized it. It already looks like it could use another trimming.

Saw that Colum McCann is coming to the Colorado College in December. Gotta mark the date. First book of McCann’s I’d ever read, Songdogs, blew me away. So did the last, Everything in this Country Must.

A blast from the past...

Fine, sunny morning. Wrote till 11:30, then headed up the pass to the Florissant Fossil Bed National Monument—35 million years into the past. Saw the petrified stumps of giant sequoias. Fossils of fish and plants and birds and insects so crisp and clean they looked like intaglio. All the victims of a long-ago volcanic eruption that buried them in a river of mud.

I never knew Sequoias grew in Colorado. Or that Florissant was once a lake. Or that volcanoes existed in Guffey. But I’ve only myself to blame. I’ve passed by the monument in Florissant a thousand times on the way to the South Platte and the Tarryall in search of a good stretch of water to fish, and never taken the time to stop until today. Glad I did. Really glad.

Small wonders...

Just in from cutting the grass. Another beautiful autumn afternoon, temps in the seventies. Wrote a little in the morning, then went kicking around town. Starbucks (blueberry scone and a latte), the Broadmoor (a stroll through the new Broadmoor west), Zeezo’s (picking up plastic rats for the Halloween display), then off to Safeway to snare a few fresh tomatoes for tonight’s dinner (pasta pomodoro). There’s a tired happiness in the air.

Hauntings…

Those projects I couldn’t get my head around yesterday? They’re now out the door, sitting on some other poor slob’s desk. What a day. Four television spots, one brochure, and two pages of taglines.

Meanwhile, Indian summer is losing its grip on the weather. Slept with the windows open last night, but only partially. By morning, I’d wished I hadn’t. Day improved, little by little, but the comeback was slow and without much enthusiasm.

Friend sent an article, “Haunted by Hemingway” by Tim Egan. It talked about EH’s early days, calling them his happiest. Probably they were in a lot of ways. He was in love, writing well, doing the things everyone wants to do when he’s young.

The piece made me sad for Hemingway—as most pieces about Hemingway make me sad anymore—but happy for myself, because what EH had in the twenties and thirties I have now. It took a long time to get here. I hope the feeling sticks. 

Cause for celebration...

Late start to work today. Empty tank at the keyboard, too. Pushed to finish another project, but it just wouldn’t come. Trying not to get frustrated, because I know where that’ll lead. Maybe an early start tomorrow will do the trick.

The few leaves the spring hailstorms left on the trees are clinging tight to life. They’re still green while most of the big trees on the block have gone a soft yellow, or lost their foliage altogether. Felt like fall today. The air cool and packing the threat of snow.

Talked about building a small office in the garage. Think it’s a good idea, what with the changes coming down. Be nice to know I could steal away when necessary and get a few words written in private.

Got word from the nice folks at The New Guard Review that my story, “Requiem for a Bantamweight,” was a finalist in the Machigonne Fiction Contest. Story will appear in the Spring issue (volume IV) of 2015. Was hoping for the $1000 first prize, but more than happy to have ended up in such talented company.

Trying to get it right...

Woke up to sunshine. Got to the office early and knocked out a handful of television scripts before being pressed into domestic services. Took a long walk through Old Colorado City mid-afternoon, then returned to the office to punch a few manuscripts through the door.

Hoped to sneak in a few small revisions on my newest stories, but wasn’t quite able. Too much going on. Or rather, too many short-notice, fast-turnaround jobs falling into my lap.

Might take another walk this evening. The weather’s too beautiful to squander. Blue jeans and fleeces are creeping their way to the front of my closet, and I need to fend them off a little while longer. Not ready to close the windows at night just yet. 

Rainy Day Mystery...

Rain today. A good hard downpour. The new grass seems to be suffering from some sort of personality disorder. Two thirds of it is growing like a weed, and a small circular patch on either side of the sidewalk is dwarfed and yellowish-looking. It was all planted with the same variety of seed, and all of it gets the same amount of water and sun, so the mystery remains.

 

 

Nothing gold can stay...

Good morning at the keyboard. Revised an old story I’ve had stashed away for a while. Cleaned up the opening, though, curiously enough, it took additional words to do it. Feel pretty good about the piece. We’ll see what sort of home it finds. Came across a new pub in the UK that’s looking for submissions that suggest a nice fit, thematically, with what I’m doing. Think I’ll float it their way and see what happens.

Slept well last night. Deep and restful. It was as if we’d walked all the way to Crested Butte. Still can’t get over how magnificent the countryside was. Aspens trickling down out of the creases in the mountains, spilling into crazy pools of orange and gold you'll dream about for weeks and months and even years to come. Reminding you it’s the moment that matters, and nothing else. That whatever your age, your days are numbered.

 

Quiet, pretty days...

Painted over the last of the new shingles this morning. The addition doesn’t look so much like an addition anymore as it does a part of the original house. Like everything grew there, naturally. And what a day to paint! If this isn’t the mildest, most beautiful fall we’ve had in years, I sure as hell can’t remember the one that beat it. Clear, sunny skies all day.

Finished a Paul LaFarge story today. “Rosendale.” One of the more interesting things about the piece is its slight shifts in perspective. The narrator (protagonist) does this hall-of-mirror sort of thing, so at one moment she’s writing her memoir and the next she’s writing a story about writing her memoir. Started another story in New Letters, too, but got interrupted and haven’t finished yet. Called “Scars,” I think. Anyway, a reading project for tomorrow.

Quiet evening. No leaf blowers, no kids hollering to their buddies, no dogs barking. Maybe everybody’s just breathing in the last of the good weather. Cut the lawn after getting a haircut. Yard looks like a million bucks, or would, if the old silver maples were still there. Taking a long, all-day drive through the mountains tomorrow. Aspens should be at their peak.

Again, briefly...

In and out, all day. Warm weather with the sun riding low and bright. Sky the color of a blue corn tortilla chip. Want to hold on to these final days of fall because they won’t last much longer. Maybe take a drive up to Crested Butte this Saturday, and enjoy the aspens. Order a hamburger in some out-of-the-way dive.

Long day, short post...

Long day. Got to the office just after 8:00, started in writing a couple of magazine articles, and haven’t looked up until now. Managed to push both jobs out the door. Big meeting in Monument tomorrow. Medical account. Crossing fingers it goes as hoped and some new projects roll in.