Okay, so .. done. Stopping. First 50 pages of novel, DONE. No additions. That’s what I’ll work with print and release. A little hungry. Wrote a poem while the Passat was filling this morning. Need coffee now, and some snack.. pastry pastry when was the last time I had one? Oh, yesterday I think– no, a blueberry waffle’s not a pastry, right? Feel jumpy and jubilant and intellectually juvenile, not to detriment, about this morning’s lectures. What I told Ms. Alice in a text– I feel alive, Mentally Alive at an altitude that my philosophy major friends would only envy and praise– “What’s gotten into you?” I can hear them saying. And the wine could never do this, it only slows. Wine and even my cherished artisanal beer acts as weights and tranquilizers to my and my ferocity.. so I move on. 1A sections next. I have to augment and adjust my plan, typed, ever so subtly. They’re 2 hour sessions where the 200s are 1hr 20min. So I can’t just recite the same script and I wouldn’t even if able. Not writers. That’s what the wine industry people do. They can’t digest other thinkings.
Not writers.
The first 50 pages.. want to print at some point but where and when.. home I guess, maybe tomorrow night, after work and dinner with Mom and Dad. Or how about ten pages at a time? that’s better. Yes. And more logical. And cost-effective, and I hate to think and talk like that but if I’m to SELF-publish and print I have to. Have to leave in 7mins, probably should get going now if I want to eat or have coffee– no don’t, there could be a line. So there you have it, I’m offering my health for the page and completing this entry. Have to get that permit, though, a new SRJC tag. Never enough Time goddamnit.