Long day's journey into benightedness...

Just back from the gym, chilling with a glass of V8. Kitties are hanging back, lounging but alert, waiting for some treat action.

Long day of back-and-forths. Revisions. Revisions of revisions. More revisions. Maybe I should take a step back, revise that thought and say it was a long day of making changes. That would be more accurate. You revise a story. You change copy. The purpose of the first is to strengthen the writing. The purpose of the second is to entertain clients, which in turn allows you to pay the bills.

Got out for a walk the first time in a week or more. Felt nice. Weather people say the temps should creep close to 50 one of these days. Hope they’re right.

Lazy me...

Nice weather edging closer. Sunny today. Sunny, but still cold. Put in some good work at the keyboard, got in some reading. Feeling lazy tonight after a jaunt to the gym. Think I’ll hang it up and see if I can’t do better tomorrow.

Do not go gently...

Sunday. Dreary weather made it seem like a lost weekend, but in truth made headway on three stories, had two entertaining dinners with friends, and no one blew up the world while I wasn't looking.

Gonna have a quiet night tonight. Relax and watch TV. Recharge for the busy week ahead. Maybe read the Dave Eggers story in this week’s NYer.

Can feel the holidays creeping up. Excited to see what rounds the bend, but feel like a kid on an out-of-control bicycle wanting to put his sneaker in the gravel and slow things down.

Time…space-time…geologic time…island time…Lombardi time…soap opera time…writing time…. They’re all real. All conspiring to do us dirt. We have to spend every waking moment cheating them of the things they’re trying to steal from us.

Bent by the same wintry fever...

3:10 pm, Saturday afternoon. Out to dinner with guests last night, in for dinner with guests tonight. Day’s warmer that the few that preceded it, but overcast and gray. Very un-Colorado.

More white stuff predicted for tonight. We’ll see. Weather people missed the coming of the previous snow completely.

Worked hard on revisions this morning. Coming close on a couple of pieces. Meanwhile, unearthed a couple of old drafts that might have some promise. Rule #1: never throw anything away.

The big chill...

Two straight days of cold. Below zero again tonight. Woke yesterday morning to an acceptance slip from the Tulane Literary Society. Warmed things considerably. They’ve picked up “Give Me Your Tomorrows,” for inclusion in their 2014 Fall issue of the Tulane Literary Review, and I couldn’t be more pleased.

Too early to be suffering from cabin fever, and yet….

Need to dust off the snowshoes, say a quick prayer the temps drop to something civilized, and start planning the next jaunt into Mueller. Or thereabouts. Best way to deal with the cold is to meet it head on.

Into the cold...

Then came winter. The dark night of the soul. The morning started out sunny and warm, and by midday a cold wind had blown in over the mountains and set temps back forty degrees. Snow by morning. More on the way.

After a decades-long search for an old buddy, I learned yesterday that he was dead. Gone at forty, a heroin overdose. Had a hard time choking the news down. We were thick as thieves when we were kids, and it’s difficult to imagine the world without him in it.

Requiescat in pace, Slinky. You were never forgotten, and will always be remembered.

You want fries with that?

Overcast today, but warm. Sixties warm.

Up late last night, drifting in and out dreams. Woke for a long stretch around 3:00 am, and lay there thinking. Wondering how different Dante’s works might have been if he had seen the night skies through the Hubble telescope.

Mercifully, went back to sleep. But not before a blood orange sunrise lit the underside of the sky.

Rose a few hours later and put the last pieces of a new story in place. Afterward, took a nice stroll downtown. Picked up a couple of bottles of blackberry vinegar, dodged a few panhandling bums, then stopped in a joint called French Fry Heaven treated ourselves to lunch.

Back home, read an essay by Donald Hall, Dr. Dr. Dr. Dr. Dr. Dr. Dr. Dr. Dr. Dr. Have to admit it was a bit disturbing. Nobody can argue the man’s talent as a writer, but it appears that behind the wheel of a car, Hall is to the open road what Nicholas Sparks is to literature.

Revisions, repairs, and tactical retreats...

Just back from the butcher shop. Steak tonight, hot off the grill. Mashed potatoes and broccoli on the side.

Busy day today. Wrote till nearly two, coming close to a new readable draft. With luck, might make it so tomorrow.

Wallpaper repairman showed at 10:00 and finished the patchwork in the dining room. Seamless job. Once painted, no one will ever know it had ever been ripped.

Made an attempt to grocery shop later in the day, but found the store overrun with customers. Decided to ditch the crowd and make a beeline for home instead. Wise move, I think.

Fertilized the new lawn and treated it with ironite. Already itching to see what it will look like come spring. Do you aerate a new lawn? Seems like no, but will have to do some research.

Going out to fire up the grill.

More comings and goings...

Friday. Warm weather with overcast skies, drifting into what promises to be a mild weekend.

Plasterer came over mid-morning to repair damage done to the dining room wall during the kitchen renovation. Comes again tomorrow to finish the job.

Found three new places to send “Eternity, Revisited.” Heading to the post office now to see the manuscripts are in the mail before the last pickup.

Thinking too hard about everything. Need to write less and read more over the next couple of days. That usually straightens everything out.

A little of this, a little of that...

Another sunny day in the 60s. Wouldn’t be right to ask for more. Tomorrow is Friday, and that’s always a plus, though no plans to do anything special. Just work hard and see if a story pops out.

Got some good things done at the office. Always happy to get in some billable hours. The month seems to be shaping up well for commercial work, so will once again cross the fingers and hope for the best.

Cut the grass for what I believe will be the last time, and need to get the mower over to the Lawn Doctor before they shut down for the season. Oil change and blade sharpening. 

Burning daylight...

Good progress on a couple of drafts this morning. Still under the weather with the cold, so happy to make anything that looks like progress.

Before five now, but it’s already twilight. Daylight savings time. The weather’s still warm—warm enough to wear shorts, anyway—so trying to be judicious in my bitching.

Election’s over with a new set of jokers in office, so no more robo calls for a while, and no more emails. Don’t know why, but I’m always reminded of Victor Komarovsky’s (Rod Steiger’s) line in Dr. Zhivago after a strenuous political campaign. “No doubt they’ll sing in tune after the revolution!”

Tired now. Looking forward to a quiet evening.

Politics, as usual...

Closed my eyes while sitting on the porch swing this afternoon. Sound of hammers all over the neighborhood. The roofing companies made a killing this summer after the big hailstorms. Almost every other house in the Old North End got a new roof, us included. Work won’t pick up here until spring, but that’s okay. After the kitchen renovation, I’m in no big hurry.

Day got busted up due to some unforeseen doings, but still managed to get some good work in on one of my newer drafts. Looking for that breakout week when three or four pieces come together at once. It’ll happen again, right?

Eve of the election. Going to turn on a movie instead of watching the news coverage. Can’t do that to myself anymore. Voted, and now it’s up to everybody else. Morning paper can be counted on to deliver all the surprises anybody cares about or needs to know.

Miss Wyoming tonight. Sorry I got rained off the mountain when I did. Next year it’s gonna be different. I’m making a point of it.

time and time again...

Day slow coming out of the blocks. Then again, maybe it’s the cold medicine. Morning sunny and cool, late afternoon, drizzly and cold. Who knows where it will lead.

Read a couple of R. Brautigan stories this morning. Makes me sad to think how he ended up.

Sent “Into the Sunset” out the door to a few places this afternoon. Read through proofs of “Mano a Mano,” and was surprised to find I still liked the story. Checked the dates on the original galleys today. It was eight years ago the piece was accepted.

A bloody fun weekend...

Spent Friday decorating the house for Halloween. Old tradition was, decorate the day of, undecorated the day after. But the front end of that arrangement may have to change next year. Too much involved, too many props, too many close calls scrabbling across the roof.

Halloween night—crazy. Went through 1,200 pieces of candy. Must have been 700 trick-or-treaters, easily. (Note: the Old North End is a destination at Halloween. People drive here from all over town to witness the show.) Nice part was, got to see a lot of kids in great costumes having fun.

Cut open right thumb while cleaning up the next day. Bled like hell, but finger cuts always do. Have it wrapped up in gauze, hoping it won’t need the attention of a professional. Been down that road more times than I’d care to remember.

Took it easy today. Wrote a little past noon, then went off to a movie. Trying to shake off a cold, so sitting around doing nothing was a good thing—despite the fact the movie itself wasn’t much to write home about. Cool air is moving in. Looking forward to a night in front of the fireplace.

Thoughts on Death and Resurrection...

Okay. I give up. Indian Summer has proved to have more lives than Rasputin. Just when I’d gone and stuck a sprig of holly through its heart, here it came again, warm and sunny and flexing its muscles. Another gorgeous day.

Progress on a new draft this morning. Feels like a story that may find its way into the world sooner than most. But we’ll see. Been working to keep distractions at bay, while at the same time keeping an open, and critical, mind. I believe writing is a craft where you can never be too hard on yourself. The trick is to consume whatever bitterness your force down your own throat in measured doses, then give it time to do it’s work.

Received a note (and page proofs) today from the editor of the Bi-lingual Review. They’d accepted a story of mine, “Mano a Mano,” some number of years ago, and I’d all but given up on seeing it published. Nice to know it’s still alive. Now to let them know I’ve already seen and approved the page proofs—back in 2006. Can it really have been that long?

Under, over, and behind the covers...

Interesting show last night. A cabaret-style affair with lots of old standards. Had forgotten how beautiful the Bergman’s “What Are You Doing the Rest of Your Life?” is—regardless who’s singing it.

Restless night’s sleep. Up early to get a little writing done, then away to the office. Killed the afternoon, came home to a quiet house and a new New Yorker. Read a story today, an homage to Joyce’s “The Dead,” I found desperately pathetic. I mean, if you’re going to go after Joyce, don’t do it in a way that invites comparisons. You’ll never win. Ever.

Cold this evening. Temps are supposed to come back up, but I fear not enough to resurrect Indian Summer.

The Pine Tombstone Arrives...

Short entry tonight. On the way to the Theatreworks.

Weather finally crashed. Cool today. Temps are supposed to swing upward again tomorrow, but fall is here and it isn’t going away any time soon. Glad to have gotten in so much fishing the past few weeks.

Halloween comes Friday. Decorations are in the waiting. A new headstone arrived on the porch this afternoon, and oh man, is it nice. Carved from pine. Wonderfully painted. It looks like something from a movie set, and has the heft of the real thing. Will be putting it up on the west side of the house, with a free floating specter dangling in the distance.

Got in some good writing this morning. Close to having the finishing touches on a new piece. Excited to be working again after the long dry spell. 

In and out of character...

Set to work early this morning, but was forced to go at the keyboard in measured steps after smashing the hell out of my left middle finger last night in a storm window. Freud would probably have said my subconscious didn’t want to get back to writing after so many days off. I don’t know. Maybe that’s true. I felt as if I’d been champing at the bit, but he’s the genius, not me. Anyway, got some revision work in, but the process was slow-going. Tentative, I guess you’d say.

Quit writing just before noon and went off on a hunt for some dead trees to spike in the ground as a background piece for the Halloween graveyard we’ve built near the side of the house. Drove down to Cañon City, then turned north into Phantom Canyon where we spied some twisted old Gambol oaks, which we plucked from the hillside and loaded into the back bed of the pickup. The perfect score! Gonna be quite the show come Friday.

Stopped at the grocery store on the way home and picked up some fixings for dinner. The hope is for mussels steamed in white wine, butter, dill, thyme, and parsley, served over a bed of linguine. You could wish for more, I suppose, but somehow it would seem greedy.

One last thing. The Dalhousie Review went live with its new issue, and “Blues Legend” is one of the featured pieces. Don’t know when the hard copies will be available, but soon I imagine. Dedicated the story to my old, old, oldest buddy, Bob Smith. A true fan of the blues, and a man whose own legend is, indeed, stranger than fiction.  

Slow goings...

Friday, just before 5:00 pm. Looking out my office window two stories up and seeing nothing but clear blue skies. Took a walk this morning and watched a black lab leaping in the air, snapping at the leaves sifting down out of a big old elm. Going at it as if it was the only thing in the world. This has to be the happiest autumn to visit Colorado Springs in ten years.

Trying to find my way back into the quiet place after all the crazy doings of late. Got a little writing time this afternoon, but too late to make a serious push on the stories closest to being finished. Settled for doing a light revise, then went on to other business. Better to cut bait, get up early, and start fresh.

Yawning as I write this. Feel like I’ve been saving up for a good sleep. Haven’t had one for nearly two weeks, so maybe tonight’s the night to cash in. Fingers crossed. Leaving for home now. 

Time, compressed...

Checking in after several days absence. Trying to regain the old sea legs. Got in a nice day of fishing down on the Arkansas on Tuesday (caught our bag limit, all nice browns, including two fifteen inchers), had dinner with the family, then drove up to Denver the next day to Pearl Jam’s final concert of their 2014 tour. (More about these things later.)  Tonight, happy to be home in one piece. Tired and looking forward to quiet time.