A very good day for writing!

I progressed today to page 178. That's 8 pages. If I could have three more days of this, I should be happy about this vacation work.

The thing is, I already know that once the collaborated book is written, I'm going to miss the writing. And I'd have to come up with another project quick. I'm not distracting myself about it, but I'm already thinking of my next writing project.

I do some reading when I wake up (to get my mind moving) and when I go to sleep (to stop my mind from moving). I now read stories with a different eye. I think: is this working?

I'm reading an SF magazine. I can already see things that I don't like about the stories at the hack level. The one I'm reading now seems very slow and lumpy. Long exposition about this planet or that planet (it could well be written about earth concerning this country or that) and long chunks of dialog. The main character is a spy/composer/sociologist and all of his fellow spies are intimate friends or relatives with relationships that seem-- just so chummy.

I do wonder: is the object to so completely remove the fiction from anything real that in fact the reader can escape totally?

I'm writing science fiction right now. In no way, do I write it as total escapism. My collaborator sees it that way too. His story attaches itself to the real world and to real world dilemmas and conflicts.

That's probably why it's main audience won't be the SF crowd, in the same way Margaret Atwood's readership isn't really SF people.

I have to go to bed. Sheesh, I could have been writing the novel instead of ranting now.

Approaching the halfway mark, I think.

I've made it to the bottom of page 170. I estimate I'll be halfway done at between page 185 and 190. Before Monday, I want to be at page 210.

A hard-won marginal success.

I'm up to the middle of page 165, writing 4-1/2 pages, and finishing chapter 4 of the second part. I struggled with it all day and finally won what I considered to be a minimal success. I know I can do much better than this.

I am hoping to have a much better day of it tomorrow. I do want to have 210 pages written before the end of my vacation.

Still sick . . . but I've figured out it's my own doing.

Today it finally occurred to me that maybe I should stop drinking beer every night with the medications I've been taking.

My psyche warned me not to drink on my medications. I asked him if I had one beer if it would be a problem. He said, no, the main problem is if you don't stop.

After that statement, I began to drink a beer now and then. Not bad there. Except the night I went on vacation I had three. Then I had two Friday night. Three again last night.

Hell, that was dumb. I ruined what could have been some very productive days, and waited for the energy I should have had.

Combine it with the use of caffeine and sinus problems and I was pretty much shot for doing anything but staring at books or the internet like a zombie till my eyes closed.

I am at the top of page 161 today. Tomorrow and for the rest of my vacation, I know I will be much better.

Tomorrow I need to talk to my prescription drug insurer. They raised the price of my prescriptions this year by 469 percent over last year. There is no way I can pay this. This is not just a squeeze, this is a death grip. I know this is going to be a long struggle.

Having been sick.

I've had some heavy sinus congestion, but I also realize I overused some meds. It was pretty bad day for health. I did visit my parents and spent some time with my eldest niece.

I am up to page 159 in the book, but I know I'm going to have a better day at it tomorrow.

A year after the loss.

It has been a year since my nephew Chris committed suicide. It would also be his 24th birthday. The tragedy changed the course of my life, and changed my family. I'll be watching the calender now. My thoughts will be: this was the day he went missing. Tomorrow will be the day his father found him, poor man. The 26th will be his wake. The 27th will be his funeral.

Family albums were out that week. I knew I was in trouble when I could not bring myself to look at them. Then, I knew how much trouble I would have when I saw his body at the wake. Of course, I did break down, and cried my brain dry. I remember my niece, a little 10-year-old coming up to comfort me. Three days later, I was in the hospital. It was a bad year.

In his suffering and long depression, which he hid it in shame from everyone. He pushed me away as he pushed everybody else close to him away. Even though I did not see him often in his adult life, it was like losing a son. I had quite a hand at raising him.

Since I did not see him often enough, so I can't really say in all my sadness that I miss him. I hate the idea that I never had a chance to get close to him again or see what he would turn into once he had beaten his problems.

Was his death a futility? No. I realize now that it was not. I would have rather had it the other way, but I felt the very same depression that he. Bipolar illness and depressions are deep in our family. I long suffered with it; I resisted the urge for suicide at his age, finding myself in the same position he found himself in with the same shame hiding it. Instead, I limped along with my life for the longest time.

After he died, I got help because of my break-down. I had also pushed everyone away. I also strongly considered suicide with some very strong vivid eidiation. I almost committed suicide later, but due to an accidental overdose of a very strong medication.

However, all it needed was a little push and I would have taken my life.

So, Chris died and inadvertently saved my life. It gave me a new life too. I wish I could trade it the other way, but the better thing is to not trade at all.

Progressing.

I'm up to page 157 now. I considered it to be an off day. I think I could have done at least twice that much with the same quality.

There were two problems. First, I got up and there was no power. The weather outside has been icy and miserable. This is no good excuse, I mean, I have the manuscript printed. I was starting the second part, from scratch. Nothing written except what was in the script. The power came back on shortly after noon.

The second reason, I woke up with serious sinus problems. One side of my face was puffy. By mid-day, it was apparent that I needed some medication. I ran to the drug store in the rain and got some Benedryl. Since then, I have felt like my brain has been defogged.

The first chapter I wrote is really wild over the top. I hope my collaborator looks at it and says: this is amazing. What he is more likely to say is: "If I knew how weird you were, I would have never let you novelize my script."

I hope of course that he says it's amazing and I never knew how weird you were.


Why is there so much sex and violence in the scene? As Chuck Palahnuik has said when asked about the violence in his books, an author today competes with videos, movies and video games, and he had better bring every advantage he has to the plot.

It isn't just that, though. A book has to explore the characters in a way those other media can't. Yes, you could use quick-cuts to show it, but since that happens too fast, what can't be shown is the inward effects on the characters. In real life, you don't see exactly the same things that the characters do.

The purpose of this work, though, is to sell the movie. By serving readers the meaning put in the book, it is then more possible to accept a movie on the premise. The audience has been primed. The book must be something that makes them curious about the movie.

Time to sleep. Sorry if I've become incoherent. Truth is, I'm far too tired now to be writing anything.

Just beginning

I'm just beginning my writing day. I was awakened early this morning by the repairman to find out what was wrong with my new internet service. He got that done, so then I slept in till about 1:30. I looked in my bank account, and to my joy, I indeed had money.


So, I gave a lift to the regional economy and paid my bills. To do that, I first had to find them, which entailed throwing away a lot of clutter and generally cleaning up.

Being forced to look at my place, I noticed the amazing similarity to writing and crack addiction. After paying my bills, I realized that I'm not doing too bad now. Last year was disastrous, but I can dig myself out by summer or sooner.

No writing yet, but I'll get an hour or so done before I go to bed tonight. Now that I am loaded with supplies and can't go anywhere due to the ice, tomorrow is going to be a better day.

I know how well I can do.

Breakthrough

I wrote 10 pages yesterday. I'm now on page 145. It is days like yesterday which tell me that I have remade myself as a writer-- if I have not necessarily sold anything yet.

I know that I can do that much more often than I have. I get distracted by unnecessary things. I am shedding the distractions one by one.

I have the skills, I have the ambition. I am now gaining the concentration and forbearance.

Going in reverse...

I'm back down to page 135. What's happening? I'm rewriting a chapter I know I botched. I now got more done with fewer pages. The good news is, I've cut from it as much as I am going to cut. It's necessary to competent writing, but it is frustrating to see the pages going down rather than up.

My collaborator must feel the same way reading this.

Goodbye my friend.

First: I've done more writing in place. I worked writing the novel today for more than 7 hours. I'm still under page 140. Not because of anything else but rewriting a scene I know I fucked up. I could tell when the moods began to take over my thinking.

********************

A lot of changes in my life right now. I know I've reached a bad parting with a friend. It was my transgression initially. I apologized immediately for it. It was caused by my impulsive response to anxiety, by trusting any conclusion that jumped ready-made out of my mid-brain.

I'm writing in generalities, because I have now neither the time nor energy to go into the specifics, but I was impulsive. I apologized for the brain-twitch, doing something which might have led to troubles for her (I doubt that they will, but that's not the point).

I gave her my explanation and she trashed it. That made me angry. I wasn't going to apologize for my apology. I knew where it was leading, and I wasn't going to dance with her further about it, knowing that my second apology would then be insincere, and knowing that I would then be manipulating her.

I was peeved for being called insincere, and over something that was very simple. I guess "Sorry, it won't happen again" would have done fine initially, but after reading her trashing on my initial apology, I felt insulted. If she felt that way, and I felt the way I did, there was going to be no recovery here, and I told her so, and told her I would resign from her sight.

Things deteriorated from there. I tried a last repair attempt. She came back writing "Fuck off and die."

And answered her "Do neither, goodbye."

I will miss you, M.

********************

In a follow up to it, today my honey was late in calling me. From my mid brain, a few ready-made conclusions rose up. That she was ill, that one of her children were ill, that her ex had come back. I listed them and realized there was no evidence of any of them. She just overslept.

And that was the correct one, of course. Now that I am medicated, I can stop and look at the evidence and quickly eliminate the "hick-up thoughts." If only I had noticed the trouble before.

I have to be careful of those dumb impulses from my mid brain and test them out. What my friend said was: "You have to think twice, no three times..." she was right in that paragraph. If only two paragraphs before she hadn't been so obnoxious. It is unfortunate that I had to sacrifice a friendship to realize what was happening. Again, more about that later.

Wanted: Angry Loners for Congressional Assassinations. Must Bring Own Guns/Explosives.

It looks like Lee Harvey Oswald types are becoming legitimate political operatives. Conservative "entertainer" and all-round mouth-with-a-mike Hal Turner calls on all pre-postal xenophobes to make their lock-and-loads heard by Congress over immigrant amnesty:

"ANY MEMBER OF CONGRESS WHO INTRODUCES, CO-SPONSORS OR VOTES IN FAVOR OF ANY SUCH AMNESTY WILL BE DECLARED A DOMESTIC ENEMY AND WILL BE CONSIDERED A LEGITIMATE TARGET FOR ASSASSINATION,"

A legitimate target for assassination? I'm glad they are not going to shoot just any Congressman.* Otherwise, some people might think it is lawless.

(*Congressmen-- I know that this seems to be a breech of etiquette, but I go by the theory that a prefix before -man or -men neuters the word. Such as "hu-man," or "wo-man.")

Yes, it is just entertainment. A political comedy sketch by a political satirist. Hey Hal: I hear John Hinckley is available and wants work badly.

He recites the catch-22 of the anti-immigration movement:

"Members of Congress and the Senate will NOT be permitted to BETRAY our nation by simply GIVING AWAY the most cherished aspect of America, Citizenship, to millions of people who cared so little for what Citizenship means that they came here against our law," he continued.

If you want to be here so badly that you resist our laws than you should not be here because you do not care for our laws. This article is not about immigration, but in passing I will say that I cannot discuss the issue and not see the irony of it of which anti-immigration people seem totally unaware. Another irony here: he then suggests breaking laws by shooting members of Congress. Irony is back from the grave and sucking your blood, Hal.

Does this mean Bush becomes "wacking material" if he signs it into law? Bush is on record saying some warm and fuzzy things about immigrants:

"Latinos come to the US to seek the same dreams that have inspired millions of others: they want a better life for their children. Family values do not stop at the Rio Grande. Latinos enrich our country with faith in God, a strong ethic of work, community & responsibility. We can all learn from the strength, solidarity, & values of Latinos. Immigration is not a problem to be solved, it is the sign of a successful nation. New Americans are to be welcomed as neighbors and not to be feared as strangers."

--Bush Speech in Washington, D.C. Jun 26, 2000

It's enough to make a Nazi cross.

Like most conservatives, though, Turner believes "words mean things." This is Orwell quoted in doubleplus duckspeak. Here is an example of its use:

". . . [O]ne supporter wrote to Turner's website, 'Hey Hal instead of saying 'may' SAY you WILL KILL THEM!!!'"

"No no no no no. Words mean things, the difference between 'may' and 'will' is the difference between an opinion and a threat. . . . One is lawful, the other is not!"

Translating this out of duckspeak, Turner really said: "No, you idiot! Why don't you just reserve me a room at the Federal Penitentiary?"

This makes it one of the most legally correct incitements to violence ever. He is saying: "somebody misunderstand me and shoot them." Just this kind of leadership that has put radical conservatism into retreat. Leadership by the hindmost, the opportunistic, and the deceptive. People who will remind their followers that words mean things while tricking them with words.

The guy has free speech rights, and he should not be tried or put in jail. I beg law enforcement: do not make this pathetic phony into a martyr, at least not so cheaply. Besides the obvious reasons, radical conservatives should have a better leader.

Turner, is more than willing to import the illegal alien politics of Fatwa rather than illegal aliens. That cannot be less destructive to America. He is reading from Iraqi insurgent books. This is hardly entertainment.

From Saturday Night Live to Talk Radio

From the 1970s, which I call the years of disillusion, Americans have mainly been educated by comedians. If most of us knew anything about politics, it would be from Chevy Chase doing Gerald Ford, Dan Akroid doing Jimmy Carter, or Dana Carvey doing George Bush Sr.

Real politics re-entered our culture as entertainment by Rush Limbaugh. As a comedian, he would have bombed, as a political commentator, he would have relegated to "Letters to the Editor" but his success formula was an ad hoc hybrid of extremely rude and crude politics packaged as entertainment. The rude and crude politics replaced comedy. Media commercials had trained people for years to buy a product if its commercials made them laugh. Now they were ready to laugh even when it was not funny and then vote. It showed that many people in our culture could no longer tell the difference between comedy and politics.

This was Limbaugh's appeal, and it tapped into some people's seething frustration with the political system and their sense of helplessness about it, who needed something rude and crude to laugh about. They became ditto-heads first. Knowing nothing else about the issues, they repeated ditto-speak like jokes. When they laughed enough, they then rewarded it by going to the polls and "buying" the product: the politicians.

I will confess that I began to get interested in politics with Rush Limbaugh. I had been trained to see politics as comedy, but I myself was angry. It took about a year before I had enough of him. I spent a lot of time looking for somebody, anybody willing to argue against the views I heard. I found out what many ditto-heads did: people on the left did not argue it at the time, they simply ridiculed you. They had opinions, but were not mentally prepared then to argue them. Moreover, they had totally "dropped out." They thought politics to be beneath them. Rush's aggressive declarations held the field then

I myself began to pay attention to politics because of Rush. I was politically undereducated, and Rush made me start studying it. I know that there are probably others like me, and in that way, Limbaugh did a service. Once I began to study and think about it, I quickly rejected Limbaugh.

Other conservative "entertainers" followed Limbaugh's formula but pushed it further to extremes. They have now created a backlash which culminated in this last election. This was more than aggravated by this disastrous presidency and congress. The liberal constituency in the US after years of chaos and inactivity has been re-awakened. Stimulated by the internet, liberals are thinking and politically mobilized now.

Conservative ideology and politics are on the retreat. They might make a resurgence because this country's troubles are daunting now. We have probably missed the time to act on them. To cite the problems I see: we have huge, unmanageable deficits, we have an aging population, where those over 85 are the fastest growing demographic group, our education system is the shame of the industrialized world, same with our medical system, and we are up to our necks in Iraq.

Also, IMO, I think climate change is going to heavily disfavor the US.

Terrorism and immigration are ordinary problems by comparison. It is hard to imagine an attack or a gate-crashing on our borders being a worse disaster than Katrina. Never mind terrorism or immigration if we take one or two more hits like that.

Writing in place.

I did not get anything done on the novel for pages, but the writing led me to an important realization about the protagonist. It began as I read over what I wrote the time before and could see that it was not working. Substance cheated anticipation, like the milk carton that slams to the top of the refrigerator. I could feel readers put it down and reach for the other.

As I began to rework the paragraphs thinking more and more, I realized that this was the heart of the whole story. I had discovered the relationship between the main character and his late father. This determined the conflict within him.

A novelist has to spend hours considering what will and won't work. As Elmore Leonard said about letting actors improvise lines of dialog that he wrote, the writer already considered what will and won't work months before. That is the writer's job. Consider the story and characters from all angles.

For production, I ran in place today, eliminating about as much as I wrote. I got less done in terms of raw pages. Those pages, though, only matter if readers find something of value in them. I've given them that today, but I am exhausted. I could not really finish getting the words just right-- or rather doing it and still doing other necessary things before work.