Journal Jumping, to Stab Certain Habits

No more starting projects only to leave them half, or less-than.  So how did I do that?  Ditched the novel, started another one.  Come on, it’s funny.  And yes, I really did.  Due date remains same: 201 pages by 4/1/12.  I swear to you, I’m laughing.  Writing in an bizarrely caffeinated haze.  Feels incredible.  That has to be artistic, doesn’t it?

Over 1k for the day.  Not sure how I feel.  Dizzy, honestly.  Jumping back and forth.  Diagonally, reversed, inside-out.  Sick.  Think this is more of a writer’s blog, I think, than a wino’s.  (2/3/12)

2/5/12, Sunday.  Super Bowl behind us, time for supreme page and winemaking focus.  Journal jumping could pose a threat to this new novel.  Not so new as I’ve never completed one.  So, this novel.  Or, book.  Not sure how fictional it is.  Tasted a great deal of wine yesterday at St. Francis, and today at Kaz.  Winemaking strategies already being mapped out for 2012, by Katie and I.  And me, by mySelf.  Sticking to my plotted varietals of Sauvignon Blanc, Syrah, and Cab Sauv.  But, after tasting an amazing Nebbiolo at Kaz today, thinking I might have that be the 4th.  Small, small production.  Maybe two barrels (About 50 css).  Have it only available to family and friends, wine club, such.

Looking at the three notebooks below my forearms as I type, filled with sheets for this new book.  Might be up late tonight, as I used to when a student, rush typing a paper at the last of last minutes.  Today’s wines, like a reminder of how necessary passion is in an artist’s life.  Wine embodies life, beauty, conviction and curiosity.  I think wine has saved me, my writing, in a number of ways.  Thinking of that quote I read a while back, about all writers having one primary subject, or theme in their work.  Can’t remember who owns those words, or the idea.  And, it’s not that important who authored it.  But, I now realize that, other than Writing itSelf, wine would have to stand as mine.  As I’ve always said, Wine is Literary, is Literature.  And I still hold that position.  It’s more than simply cemented.  It’s perceptively fixated.  A vision immovably.  Forever.

See mySelf up till about 1a, or 2, typing.  Just as, I’m sure, Capote did with his works, especially ‘Cold Blood’.  Isn’t such behavior what separates “professional” writers from recreational ones, or ones merely wishing?  I don’t know.  Either way, I’ll be up late tonight.  Book: DUE 4/1/12.  WITHOUT FAIL.  “The ultimate inspiration is the deadline,” said Nolan Bushnell.  Couldn’t agree more.  Maybe I should have another Diet Coke.  Or, maybe one of those flavored sparkling waters.  When I was an undergrad, a fellow student in my Literary Analysis seminar told me to try drinking water if I needed to stay up late, in place of caffeine.  I remember he told me the morning something was due, I think a 500-word response or criticism on a short work by one of Professor Coleman’s gathered authors.  He, my class colleague, said “Try water, that’ll always work.” Haven’t tried it since.  Guess tonight’ll be the first.  Quite excited, really.  Tonight will be a test for me, as a writer.  And, plainly, as a Human.  See how convinced I am of my Creative “convictions.”

So, with my wine still in its barrel, finishing its ML, I wait.  Wait.  The one part about winemaking of which I don’t classify mySelf a fan.  The waiting.  What does that take?  Patience.  Not know for that.  But, I don’t have a choice.  Will just write my way through it, listing dreams, visions of the result.  Will write my way through it.  To it.  “It,” being my bottled result.  The WINE.  (9:17pm)