I know I’ve already posted and typed far too much today, just wanted to capture this moment. Thought about giving up on book.. can you bloody believe that? Cutting it in half, to make a chapbook, to ditching it altogether. Not this time. I’m finishing this filthy project, even if it’s unpolished, gritty, rushed, raggedly rough in end. It IS being finished. Writing like a songwriter, frantic musicians in studios. I don’t have time to “master” these sessions. They need to be released, soon after being written.
Bringing first 8 pages with my to work. They will serve as the writer’s lunch. Tonight, no wine. Sparkling lemon water, in its stead. Thirsty again.. think I need capping.
Comp Book at left, wide, exposed in case rhyme fall to my sprawls– there. Watching news, getting sleepy. Tomorrow, back on clock.. A clock. My sister posted a picture of her view of the ocean, from a sitting spot on beach. I’ll be there, soon, on Road. But I have to finish editing, or rather BEGIN. Need another water as I said, but I’m too lazy to get up. Is this a writer thing? Now I’m just rambling, but again.. maybe that’s my vintage, varietal.
The news just hinted at some rain, or “sprinkles” as he said. Are they kidding? I remember those rainy nights, driving back from Napa, when I worked at the box. Ugh, that place. I’ll be honest, and you’ll see this in the book: I’m still with aimed cannon, at that place. And why wouldn’t I be, after what they did, just before Jackie was born?
Just back from walk to kitchen. Enjoying water. AC just came on.. was it hot in here? So wonderfully happy I’m not sipping wine tonight, and that I have this reaffirmed focus on my book. Need to edit it quick. Going to spend 11-11:30p just skimming through it, while the news babbles whatever they do. So much sensationalizing. Hoping I wake earlier than usual tomorrow, for a couple sentences’ sake.