Off the ropes and counterpunching...

Good day all around. Fog burned off, got a little work done outside, and killed it at the keyboard. Finished reading and taking notes on two new stories for N. Good pieces, both. One struck a particularly nice profile. Looking forward to kicking it upstairs and seeing what a different editor thinks.

Worked till mid-afternoon, then went off to do a bit of shopping. Lanterns for the backyard. Beer and wine for tomorrow's guests. Hope the weather clears a little more. Don't mind the come and go of clouds, but the humidity isn't any fun. Would like to go fishing this weekend, but know it would be a mistake, given it's the Fourth. Later, I guess.

Missing folks greatly today. Not sure why. But want to keep focused on the good, the present. Still looking for that special cup of Starbucks. Nearly had it, but it slipped away at the last second. 

Here's to Saturday night.

 

 

Sometimes, dope is dope...

Long day under anesthesia. Long two days of prepping for the doc. But the day started out with a fine sight--a beautiful little bird wishing me good morning--and ended with a long, dreamy nap alongside the kitties.

Read a story by T.C. Boyle in the NYer after I woke up. Powerful piece about immigration; medicine as a tool of repression. Not much humor in this one, but a helluva lot of heart. Also came across an old excerpt from Underworld. Hilarious stuff about a family in the fifties. Gotta get over to the bookstore and pic up his (Delillo's) latest joint.

Gonna slide into the evening now. Rest up and see if I can't lose this strange fog that's rolled into my head. The doc said no alcohol, but screw it. It's Friday.

Got this strange craving for a taste of Starbucks. I mean, strange. Really strange.

Thoughts composed a few thousand miles from Tintern Abbey...

Sunday evening. Another week come and gone. Finished my reader draft of "Love Triangle." Ready to move on to one of my other pieces. Gotta keep reminding myself not to think too hard, just keep writing and trust in my own voice. Done a lot of thinking since San Francisco, most of it good, and tried a lot of new things, though how much of those experiments I've kept on the page I can't say. All I know is, you've gotta keep believing each new story is going to be better than the last. You've gotta keep punching. You've gotta keep working and studying and finishing what you start. Most important, you've gotta keep sending stuff out.

There's thunder in the distance and the skies have gone gray. Hope we get some rain. 

Hot stuff...

Warm again, all day. Heard there's a new fire--in southern California. Sky wasn't bad today, but if the wind shifts....

More good revisions on "Love Triangle." Very close to a reader's draft. Just need to get the last two hundred fifty words in better order. Maybe this weekend.

Helped out with some demo tonight. Truck filled with lumber. Some nice fir in there, but nowhere to store it. Wish someone would come along and make off with it tonight, otherwise it's a trip to the landfill.

Read Philip Roth's "The Conversion of the Jews" last night. First time. Man, oh man, can that guy write. Terrific story all the way around.

Small doings...

Home this morning, looking after small stuff. Office later. Good editing work on "Love Triangle." Think I may have a reader draft with a little more work. Researched Duotrope for submission markets, and sent off a couple of older manuscripts. Most of the hot markets won't be accepting work until September, but that's okay. I should have four or five new ones ready to go by then. Hit the gym before coming home. Looking forward to a good night's sleep. 

Smoke gets in your eyes...

Cooler today. Though, something seems dreadfully wrong when eighty-seven seems cool. Skies are still full of smoke, but I'm resigned to the fact that, for the rest of my natural life, that may be the case. Unless, of course, the entire west goes up in flames all at once.

Making good progress on "Love Triangle," though no progress seems swift enough when you're excited about a piece and can't quite seem to manage the last detail.

 

Monday musings...

Another scorcher, sky smudged from the Dog Head fire. Late evening clouds have rolled in over the mountains. Hoping for rain. No hail, please. Temps figure to be in the mid to high nineties the rest of the week. Not sure when the next break is supposed to come. Maybe when the monsoons arrive.

Good day today. Missed an orthodontist appointment, but otherwise made the best of things. Got in some small but good revisions on two stories. Met with new clients later in the afternoon and picked up work writing a brochure. Website down the road. Feels good to mix things up.

Got a couple of Father's Day cards and a nice phone message from the kid. Nice to be thought of, remembered. Need to get started on my letter writing again. Behind, as usual. 

Beer & Brats...

Father's Day. No father anymore. Still can't make it all the way around that one.

Went up to Elevenmile yesterday and broke in the new equipment. The vest is as good as it gets. Same with the other gear. Took no getting used to at all. Water was lower than expected, but clear and cool. Caught and released three nice brown in all, and got in a hundred good casts. There was smoke in the air from the Dog Head fire down in the Manzanos, but nothing too distracting. Mostly, it was just a nice relaxing day on the water. Even the tubers coming downriver were well behaved.

Coffee out on the back patio this morning. Temps again well over ninety, and expected to remain that way for the rest of the week. Seems hotter this spring than last, but that's probably my imagination. Just happy we can fall back on AC now and then. Especially to cool the house at night before bed.

Put in some good work at the keyboard today. Finished a draft of a new story, and make progress editing two older pieces. Going through one of those odd times when it's difficult to know what's worth spending time on and what's better off being pushed out the door. Nice to have a serious block of time to go after a piece, though. The diction becomes more consistent, and the rhythms are easier to follow.

Guests coming for dinner. Brats on the grill. Gotta twelve pack on ice in the cooler out back, and a cold Heiney call my name. 

New under the sun...

Off line a few days owing to tech difficulties. Hate falling behind like that. Anyway, back up now, fingers crossed I won't have anymore problems for a while.

Hot the past couple of days. Wish I could say I was enjoying it, but that would be a big fat lie. Thank God for AC. Be different if I were up in the mountains, only I don't expect that to happen for a while. Not with all the new work trickling in, and a hatful of story critiques looming.

Finished the edits on "Riverbound" and shipped it off today to American Fiction 2016. Last day of the deadline. Word count came in somewhere around 9,300, and that puts it out of contention with at least 80 percent of the lit mags in the market. Ran into the length issue last year with "Desperado." But AF liked it and picked it up. Not sure how they feel about back-to-back submissions, but which ever way the chips fall, it was good to get another piece into circulation.

New fly vest came in. It's a beaut. Still miss the old one, but Orvis did a hell of a job loading me up with new gear. Can't wait to try it out. First trip to Wyoming looks to happen in early July, but need to break things in here at home before that.

Hearing voices...

Out walking this afternoon, and my iphone malfunctioned as it sometimes does, defaulting to a voice setting and activating Siri. Went to turn it off, only to discover she was reciting my dad's obituary. Don't know what to think about that one. Knowing how much the old guy loved his technology, I suspect he would have found it amusing.

Read a terrific story once in the Pushcart series, years back. "The Dead Boy at Your Window." The author was a fellow named Bruce Holland Rogers, and the piece was, as I recall, nominated by Joyce Carol Oates. It was a wonderful work. Just beautiful. The brief interlude with Siri stirred up memories of it.

Thunderstorms tonight. Rain's nice. Got a notice from Orvis my new fly vest shipped today. Should be here in seven days at the outside. Need to drop in Angler's Covey and restock my fly supply before it gets here. Lost everything when the old vest went missing including my favorite fly books and boxes. Some of the things will be easily replaced, others not. There were a handful of beautiful old streamers in one of my leather fly wallets, gifts from my aunt. 

Good headway today on the new story. Dropped the title with the Dylan reference and went straight for throat. Calling it "Love Triangle" now. Hope to have a reader's draft in order before long. Going back to the coming of age story tomorrow. Then on to something new. Gotta start putting more pieces in the mail.

 

Easy...real easy...

Another Friday! Had an early go at "Love Minus Zero," then took care of small business around the house. Lovely day, though a bit overcast and humid when it started out. Finished up work at the office, made a trip to the bank, and ended the day at the gym. Well, not ended. Ended the day mowing and edging the lawn. Looking forward to settling in and enjoying a nice quiet evening. Reuben sandwiches for dinner!  

Checking in...

Been days since updating this baby, though not for lack of interest. Lots of yard work over the long weekend, including the building of the final set of teak gates. A minor setback with the drain on the east fountain, but nothing tragic. Should be able to kick back this weekend and enjoy the fruits of our labor.

Up early to the gym, then off to the orthodontist for what is getting close to the final visit. Should have the braces off in August if all goes well, and so far, all seems to be going well. Put in some good revision time on a new story I'm calling "Love Minus Zero." Yeah, a nod to the old Dylan number on Bringing it all Back Home. Had doubts about the story a few days ago, but think it's going to be all right providing I get the last page in order. Back to work on the untitled piece tomorrow.

Big storm tonight. Rain, hail, the whole nine yards. Looks like everything survived. 

 

Comings, goings, and more...

Up at a good hour. Coffee, paper, and straight to revisions on new story. Knocked off at the keyboard around noon, and dedicated the rest of the day to planting, and cleaning up the back yard. Found a tall amphora for the northeast wall. Looks great. Cleaned the fireplace in anticipation of the first blaze of summer, then went over to Boreillo Brothers for a hand tossed pizza. Gonna get cleaned up now, and kick back for the evening. Received a note of condolence from Loras College today. Thought it was a give letter. Hit me hard when I opened it. The grief comes in bits and pieces, always when you least expect it.

Pushing toward the weekend...

Cool, overcast day. Wish I could have spent some of it in the mountains. Nothing ever seems dreary up there. On the positive side, the lawn and shrubs are going gangbusters, and the moisture should give them a good head start on the dry, hot weather ahead.

Fly vest! Need to find my fly vest! Been dreaming of a day on the water, but no way it's going down unless I remember where my gear is. This weekend for sure. I'll put even money the treasure hunt ends somewhere in my tragedy of a garage. Hope so, anyway. Have looked high and low through the house, and come up empty ever time.

Read a nice story in the New Yorker last night. "The Midnight Zone" by Lauren Groff. Not familiar with her work, but hope to get better acquainted in the future. Same issue had some terrific old photos by Diane Arbus. Unpublished works from the late 50s through the 60s.

Revisited an old draft today after a late night revelation on how to move the story forward. Think maybe it's going to work. Put in a couple of hours revising it, and am pleased with the results. Knock wood.

Through the rain...

Rain, two days straight. Too crumby to hang outside, but the lawn sure as hell looks good through the front window. Weather's supposed to be iffy all week. Ought to build a fire and settle in with a book. 

Speaking of reading material, got a chance to read my buddy G.O.'s new treatment last night. As always a real pleasure. On a completely different front, received news an essay I promoted made third place in the 2016 Winter Contest. Quite proud to have been a part of the process.

Put in some good work on my latest, untitled piece. For all intents and purposes, it's nearly finished, and I should have a reader copy soon. Been studying the story and wondering if maybe it could be the opening section of a novel? I like the protagonist, and think he has room to grow. Might put in some extra time to see if I can make it work. Worth a try, I suppose.

 

A quiet Sunday...

Up late this morning. Read the paper over coffee, then went upstairs to work. Put in last set of revisions on "Frank the Redeemer," took care of a few housekeeping details, and closed a submission. Afterward, went off to the nursery looking for hostas.

Spent the afternoon planting and cleaning up around the back yard. By July it's going to be a showcase. Six weeks into spring, it still isn't spring. Weather's too cold to plant flowers, and the threat of hail is omnipresent. Off spine, I still haven't found my fly vest.

Got word late in the afternoon from Willard & Maple (Champlain College's literary magazine) they've accepted my story "Missing." Nice. I think that makes number three on the year. Who knows, maybe I'm back on pace for another good year. Fingers crossed.

A modest comeback...

Almost two weeks since the funeral. Hard to believe. Lots to recon with in the aftermath. Found a letter he'd written to a newspaper in South Dakota, an inquiry never answered regarding the lineage of a certain Sioux chief, and in reading it heard his voice again. There've been moments of thinking I should pick up the phone and call him only to realize, oh yeah, he's not here anymore. Hope, wherever he is, he's been reunited with his dog. She was the last of his great losses, and he never really got over her.

Finally have a reader draft of what was once called "Bad Good Friday." I've renamed it "Frank the Redeemer," which seems to be a much better fit. Anyway, giving it a couple of days to cool, after which I'll start researching pubs. Have good feelings about the piece, but then I should after all the time it's taken to mould in to something respectable. This was one of those labors you never forget.

Got a light rain late this afternoon. The grass already looks like Augusta, and when the trees and shrubs fill in, the yard ought to look like a showpiece. Knocking wood as I write this we don't get another debilitating hail storm this spring. The two previous springs have wiped out more plant life than I care to remember.

Good to be back at the journal. Gotta keep punching. 

Looking ahead...

Got a notice from the Flint Hills Review today. They've accepted "Into the Sunset." Kind of surprised it took so long to find a home, but then again not. Happy about the acceptance. Means I can move on to other pieces.

A lot on my mind. Will leave Friday for my father's funeral. So numb I can't even find the words to  talk about it. Maybe that's best. All I know is, make the most of what's ahead because, in time, there'll be no ahead.

Discovered I've misplaced my fly vest. Can't believe it. First time that's ever happened, and all I can hope is that it's buried somewhere in the garage. Gotta mount a full-fledged search once I get back from Albuquerque.