Baby, it's cold outside...

Cold weather moved in this morning on the back of a strong wind. Had visions of the Christmas lights being blown off the house, but the worst of it wasn’t as bad as it might have been, and things have calmed a little. Looks to be a blustery week with temps in the 40s. Would rather see snow and cold.

Had to take the Jeep in for service check. Ignition problems of some sort. Fingers crossed it won’t be a big deal.

Can’t believe the end of the year is only two weeks away. My reading list keeps growing, my drafts keep piling up, and the days just seem to get shorter. What I wouldn’t give for a few days of research time in the library!

Had two close friends for dinner last night. Ate stew and drank French wine, talked everything from contemporary literature to classical music to Renaissance architecture, and in short had as good a time on a winter night as anybody can hope for. 

Of cats and men...

Sun’s down and I hardly know where the day went.

Spend a good part of the afternoon shopping for health insurance. Guess that counts for something.

Tired now, and the kitties have come to visit. Think I’ll spend time with them.

 

Christmas is a coming...

Busy day. Up early, some quick revisions, then out the door to the office to clear up the paper cluster on my desk. More beautiful weather, coming and going. Wore cargo shorts and light jacket all day. Enjoying it now, as the weather folks are calling for snow on Sunday.

Contributor copies from the Tulane Review arrived yesterday. My story, “Give Me Your Tomorrows” is in it. The piece was loosely based on a terrible accident that took place a few years ago at the 7-Eleven store on Colorado Avenue. A girl was burned to death after having been pinned between her car and a gas pump, due to the negligence of another driver. An awful, awful thing.

Can feel the holidays breathing down my neck, and still don’t have all the decorating in place, much less the shopping. Managed to trim the tree last night—all eight-feet plus of it—and to borrow a phrase from the kids, it rocks. Looking to get everything else in place over the next day or so. We’ll see. This time of year, everyone seems to bite off more than they can chew.

Miss my folks. Need to give them a shout. The kid, too.

Bits and pieces...

Been refitting some old pieces. Salvage work. Don’t like to throw anything away, but there’s a price to pay for looking backward. The warts usually look worse in retrospect than they did when you convinced yourself to move on.

Ran across some sage insight a few days ago. It came from a Bread Loaf Writer’s Conference in the 1930s. It insisted writer’s choice of subject matter was sacrosanct, and beyond criticism. Be yourself, it seemed to say. If something moves you enough to write about it, then write. You can learn how to make your story stronger, but you can’t fake inspiration.

Not exactly noteworthy...

Did some revising of a story this morning, then came to my senses and went outside to do catch up with yard work. Not sure what the temperature was, but raked leaves in shorts and a tee shirt.

Later, chopped kindling, chased down lights for the porch, and watched a little football. Not ready for Monday morning yet.

Non-events...

Friday evening. Just getting ready to head over to the post office and drop off a letter or two. Sky’s going dark, so it must be turning the corner on 5:00 pm.

Got up early for my meeting, but it turned out to be for nothing. Friend I was supposed to catch up with didn’t show. Got home in time to read the paper and get a little writing done, but that was about it.

Went out at noon and bought our Christmas tree. A twelve-foot balsam fir. Left it at the lot and will pick it up later this evening.

Been fighting a hamstring pull for well over a week now, and it’s putting a serious crimp in my program. Forgot how painful they can be. 

Pondering, weak and weary...

Overcast and cool all day. Don’t think I saw the sun once. Spent time going back and forth between home and the office, taking care of small things.

Early meeting with a buddy tomorrow. Hope to spend a little time learning more about the proposed production schedule of his new television program.

Weekend’s supposed to be great, weather-wise. If it is, we’ll look to get the Christmas decorations up. Big chore, but the days are closing in.

Dead dog tired last night. Went to bed early. Feel much the same tonight and will probably repeat the process. 

Wednesday, and Here we are...

Cold today, but fought off the icy advances of Jack Frost with grim determination, wearing cargo shorts and a leather bomber jacket long after the temps dropped.

Finished “So the Wind Won’t Blow it all Away” this evening. A strangely moving story that made me wish Brautigan hadn’t done himself in. Would have liked to know what he thought about the world today.

Couldn’t catch any traction with my own work today, but kept slugging even so. It’s all you can do, right? Did have a nice moment when the mailman came this afternoon. Contributor copies of “Blues Legend” arrived from the Dalhousie Review. 

Chugging along...

Slow start today. Things clunked along, but that was as good as it ever got. Nice day for the first week in December. Sunny skies with the smallest bit of wind. Went for a long walk along the river at noon, then came home and noodled with some new storylines. Need to break out the snowshoes this weekend. Get ready for the next good snow. Glad we had a nice long Indian summer, but want to make sure it's a good, productive winter. 

From Broadway to the Broadmoor...

Home late. Theatreworks had a special salon presentation this evening in the Broadmoor. Along with 70 or so other lucky folks got to sit in a rich lady’s living room and listen to Brian Dennehy discuss the intricacies of his craft. Not a bad way to kill a cold Monday evening.

Late to rise...

Rolled out of the sack at the ungodly (and wonderful) hour of 9:00! Where did that come from? What great timing!

Went to work on a newer draft, and made surprising headway in a short period of time. Hope the whole story goes that way, but easy solutions don’t come as easily as they used to when you mature as a writer. You’re always looking for ways to deepen stories instead of end them. Not sure you hit any more homeruns than you did when you were quick to get the pieces out the door, but you enjoy the challenge of trying.

Read two terrific television treatments this afternoon. Both by a good friend and longtime colleague. One of the pieces is already in production with MGM, and should find its way on air before long. The other is looking for a home. Hoping each enjoys great success.

Weather turning colder. Hard to believe tomorrow is December 1st.

Loose ends...

Woke to the sound of guests leaving. Jumped out of bed and ran downstairs to say goodbye, but too late. The Jeep had already turned the corner on its way to the airport.

Did a little writing over a pot of coffee. Not much, but enough to say I’m making headway on two new pieces. Moved some bookcases afterward and managed to avoid maiming or killing the kitties, both of whom insisted on being underfoot. The old glass-doored legal bookcase is now upstairs. Nice to look at it while I’m at the keyboard.

Read more of the Brautigan novel. Impressed at how easy he makes it look. How much heart he puts into it. Have the feeling it’s going to make me sad when all is said and done, but that’s okay. It has a lot of charm.

Made big plans to fry up some Polish sausage, sweet peppers and onions, but find I’m too lazy to do it after all the heavy lifting. So it’s comfort food instead. Grilled cheese and tomato soup. Tired. Gonna hang it up now and see what the rest of the night brings.

Tryptophantastic...

Good half day of writing. Finished another, longer story I’ve titled, “The Jesus Brand.” Have high hopes for it, but that always seem to spell the kiss of death, so I’m tempering my enthusiasm. Two other pieces I’ve been working on are pretty far along, but I can’t lie. I’m eager to get to work on my new novel.

Had a wonderful Thanksgiving out. Great food, great company. Missed the old folks down in New Mexico, but that’s the way it always goes, isn’t it? You can never have everyone together at the same time, so you do the best you can.

Have charged deep into the heart of Richard Brautigan’s last novel, So the Wind Won’t Blow it All Away. Deeply moved by it. He wrote such sweet, amusing stories—and came to such a terrible end. You can feel the melancholy in the words. I keep thinking of my buddy, Spider, who had the same desperately funny sense of humor.

Holiday doings...

Thanksgiving Eve.

Finished “Crabwalk” tonight. A seductive bit of work. Thematically, bits of the novel reminded me of “A Clockwork Orange.”

Took a long walk, went to the gym, and came home to a lovely dinner. Nice to have family around.

Put the finishing touches on my short-short “The Bitter Angels of Our Nature,” this morning. Need to find a home for it now.

 

Then and now...

Long day. Revised two stories. One close enough to stick in the mail.

Putting the finishing touches on a pot of home-made mushroom soup. Been too long since I’ve worked this recipe.

Mr. Kitcat helping me write this. Sitting on the counter, hoping I’ll send some love his way.

Lots of hits on FB regarding both the Cassidy/Kerouac letter and the shot from the pergola on the grassy knoll in Dealey Plaza. Powerful memories.

 

On the road...

Opened the paper to an interesting article today. LA performing artist, Jean Spinosa, found a letter when she was cleaning out her late father’s house two years ago. An 18 page screed from Neal Cassady to Jack Kerouac, dubbed the “Joan Anderson Letter.”

In scholarly circles the missive is called "the letter that launched a literary genre," because after reading it, Kerouac was said to have “scrapped” his early version of On the Road, and during a “three-week binge” rewritten the novel in the style of Cassady’s letter.

Truman Capote said of Kerouac’s work, “that isn’t writing at all, it’s typing.” Well, maybe so. But it was inspired typing. On the Road is a joy to read, and I stick by it as literature.

Family coming to town tomorrow. The holidays are here. Time to forget about what isn’t, or what should have been, and focus on the now. Trade expectations for the enjoyment of the moment.

Hanging...

Anniversary of the assassination of JFK yesterday. Two best reads on the subject? Fiction: Don Delillo’s Libra. Non-fiction: Vincent Bugliosi’s Reclaiming History: The Assassination of President John F. Kennedy.

Slept well last night. Spent the better part of the day writing. Repainted the dining room walls damaged during the kitchen renovation this afternoon. Hung the new mirror and the artwork, and all was right with the world again.

Looking ahead to a busy week.

Reflections...

Another toss and turn night. Fell asleep close to dawn, and rolled out of bed before nine. Got in a small number of revisions on my longest story in some time (nearly 7,000 words), read a few pages, then showered and headed off to Denver.

Picked up a knockout of a 19th century Italian mirror for the dining room at antique shop on Alameda. Beautiful carved wood frame. Mottled glass where the silver’s worn away. Figure to hang it over sideboard on the west wall. Should make quite a statement.

Countryside up and back was a pretty palate of browns. No snow, but that’ll come later—in spades. Temps hit sixty. Wore shorts and a jacket, milking the good weather for everything it was worth.

Random musings...

Can’t believe November’s almost gone. The long Indian summer must have lulled me into some kind of trance. Busy day today, both at home and the office.

 Was given the occasion to think of someone very close to me, now long gone. It was something my son said. Nice to have had my memory jogged.

Finished a short, short today. Been noodling with it for over a year, and think I finally got it right. Close on two other, longer pieces. Hoping for a productive weekend.