I loved him before I met him after reading the dedication page of the one book I randomly picked to check him out, The Bullet in the Chamber. I loved him because he had lost a son, which created an instant bond between he and all fathers, fathers of any consequence at least, for that pain cannot be truly understood, unless a parent is so affected; for those others blessedly not so affected it can only be imagined. I will be spending three hours a day, 9-12 with him in a Master Writing class, so, I googled him and checked out his book list, and found approval in my mind and in my heart.
Before I decide to read a book, I’ll read a few paragraphs, and if it’s something that reads like I could write, or, more oftenly, better, I will continue, and buy it if the spirit moves me. If I read something that I think I could write better, I don’t. This isn’t to say that I am an awesome writer, or that quality of writing correlates with successful writing. I’ve found that some of the most beautiful writing is not the most successful whereas some writing that doesn’t rise to the bar of my buying actually kicks some serious ass. For instance, I picked up a certain book about a vampire several years ago and read a few pages and thought, I think I’d write better than that, but the truth is I didn’t write and therein lies the difference. I can think about how well I might write all day long or have all these plans to write this or to write that but until I actually write, it means nothing. As it turned out, I actually read the vampire book, the first one anyway. It was great fun to discuss it with all the other females in my nuclear and extended family who had read it (all of them pretty much) and a little while latter I was able to save myself some serious time when I asked my daughter, “So, when exactly did ******actually consumate his love with +++++++?” Apparently it wasn’t until something like the 4th book, I think but could be off a volume or two, and that’s a long time to wait. I remember my first young adult novel where the two characters did it, and it all happened in the first volume, actually it wasn’t a series. All I remember is a young boy/man on the cover in jeans and barefoot and maybe there was a tent. Anyway, he was out by himself camping or traveling or maybe all in one place, but he met this girl and over the course of the novel they fell in love, or in teenager love anyway and there wasn’t anything terribly graphic but I do remember getting the definite impression of yes, this is what I hope to feel someday.
Not sure where that came from. It wasn’t what I meant to write. I just didn’t want to stop until I hit my number. John told us in class to day that Stephen King said we should write 1000 words a day and so this is my first day. We’ll see how it works out. If I’m working on my novel idea, my 1000 words will be there, not here.
We have ten students in our class for the week. Today we went around the room making introductions and they all souinded like Hemingways, but I haven’t read any of their writings yet. One of the first who made introductions could help but make some political comments about authoritarian governments and how frightening everything was today, but I didn’t point out that her current savior, or so I think, is in fact much more authoritarian than his predecessor insofar as the censorship of big media and destruction in election integrity with support of ballot harvesting, no voter ID and all the other stuff that is supposedly voter suppression. I didn’t say anything of course because you don’t change minds that way and it’s not worth the hassle and would only make the others uncomfortable. One of my best friends, two of them actually, are about as far to one side of the political sprectrum as I am to the other. We don’t talk about it much, simply respect the other’s freedom to believe and we talk about all the other important things that are legion relative to the base nature of politics.
Lost my stream here. I set up this page on my totally annonymous site, so anyone who stumbles on this will never know who I am so i can say whatever I want, like FUCK and SHIT and “I do acid,” even if I don’t, but I did read Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and it made feel like I was doin acid and I didn’t really like the feeling, but I think I’ll slip an acid trip into my current project. So, in closing out my 1000 words, or close enough, for the day, “Don’t Do Acid!”