Wednesday, November 03, 2004
It's All Over, Even the Fighting
* It's strange to think I met my wife when Bill Clinton was still president. I remember that being a very fun summer. But so much of my knowing her has been in the Bush years, that it seems a little quaint. Not unlike how Clinton himself appeared back then: a lame duck president, battered from the whole sex incident, just coasting his last year in office. In five or ten years, I suppose I'll look back on the first part of our relationship and marriage as "the Bush section". Kind of how high school and college were "the Clinton section" and grade school was "the Reagan section". I don't remember too much of "the Carter section".
* We're just about done working on our house. I still have to paint some woodwork in an extra bedroom. We need to buy cool shades for the bird room. And I have some fix-it projects. But all that's easy. The kitchen will be the last big project. Every other room's been done. We'll eventually have to get new water heaters, but I think these monsters still have a year or two left in 'em; we'll probably get new sanitary tubs then, too. Then there's the drainage issue in the backyard. Maybe I'll do that next spring. And we still have to call Richard, our renegade electrician with the secret dream of becoming a mortician, to put in a backyard light. I guess it sounds like more than it is. This was a really boring tidbit, I know. I can't tell you why I added this. But the house is the life at this point.
* There's this point in Richard Ashcroft's first song of his second album; it's well into the first song -- six minutes or so -- when he sings out about a beautiful world. And he's so into it, and the song is moving along so strong, that by that point, the audience is so with him that it doesn't matter: you want to believe him. His new album is due for February.
* Someone asked me why I haven't posted any poetry recently. That's because I haven't written any. When I'm writing a novel, that creative side of me shuts down. In fact, I won't be writing any poetry any time soon. I'm not even reading it right now. Everything is focused on the fiction. After this book is done, I'm moving right along to edit another.
* Is there anything more embarrassing (besides two people flirting) than listening to a director's commentary for a bad movie? I just want to scream out: "But it sucked!"
* That bitch next door to us put down some bricks on some cement right next to our garage. It looked OK, but she didn't ask, so I threw the bricks back on her lawn. She should have asked.
* They drop kids off in our neighborhood (from rougher neighborhoods) to trick-or-treat by the truckloads. I went through like 50,000 bags of candy. And that's cool -- that's cool. But they could at least wear a costume.
* I've been growing a beard for a few weeks now, so it's pretty funny when someone sees me and hasn't seen me in a while. They all do one or more of the following:
a.) tell me I look older
b.) ask me if I'm going hunting
c.) shake their heads and ask why
d.) complain about me losing my "baby face"
e.) repeat their question "why?"
f.) if female, seem very dissatisfied
g.) if male, seem very approving
* I'm at this point in my new book where the character's life starts to go from mildly disappointing and disturbing to the point at which I'm afraid to give the book to any friends or family for what they will think of me. It's fun but it's hard.
* No, I'm not participating in that whole "blog your novel" thing. It's not that I can't write 50,000 words in a month. It's that I can't do it well. It's a neat idea, though. And, sure I could put up my second book, which is fresh and ready. But that's cheating. November's novel writing month (whatever that means), not display-the-novel-you-finished-last-spring month.
* Time for work.
* We're just about done working on our house. I still have to paint some woodwork in an extra bedroom. We need to buy cool shades for the bird room. And I have some fix-it projects. But all that's easy. The kitchen will be the last big project. Every other room's been done. We'll eventually have to get new water heaters, but I think these monsters still have a year or two left in 'em; we'll probably get new sanitary tubs then, too. Then there's the drainage issue in the backyard. Maybe I'll do that next spring. And we still have to call Richard, our renegade electrician with the secret dream of becoming a mortician, to put in a backyard light. I guess it sounds like more than it is. This was a really boring tidbit, I know. I can't tell you why I added this. But the house is the life at this point.
* There's this point in Richard Ashcroft's first song of his second album; it's well into the first song -- six minutes or so -- when he sings out about a beautiful world. And he's so into it, and the song is moving along so strong, that by that point, the audience is so with him that it doesn't matter: you want to believe him. His new album is due for February.
* Someone asked me why I haven't posted any poetry recently. That's because I haven't written any. When I'm writing a novel, that creative side of me shuts down. In fact, I won't be writing any poetry any time soon. I'm not even reading it right now. Everything is focused on the fiction. After this book is done, I'm moving right along to edit another.
* Is there anything more embarrassing (besides two people flirting) than listening to a director's commentary for a bad movie? I just want to scream out: "But it sucked!"
* That bitch next door to us put down some bricks on some cement right next to our garage. It looked OK, but she didn't ask, so I threw the bricks back on her lawn. She should have asked.
* They drop kids off in our neighborhood (from rougher neighborhoods) to trick-or-treat by the truckloads. I went through like 50,000 bags of candy. And that's cool -- that's cool. But they could at least wear a costume.
* I've been growing a beard for a few weeks now, so it's pretty funny when someone sees me and hasn't seen me in a while. They all do one or more of the following:
a.) tell me I look older
b.) ask me if I'm going hunting
c.) shake their heads and ask why
d.) complain about me losing my "baby face"
e.) repeat their question "why?"
f.) if female, seem very dissatisfied
g.) if male, seem very approving
* I'm at this point in my new book where the character's life starts to go from mildly disappointing and disturbing to the point at which I'm afraid to give the book to any friends or family for what they will think of me. It's fun but it's hard.
* No, I'm not participating in that whole "blog your novel" thing. It's not that I can't write 50,000 words in a month. It's that I can't do it well. It's a neat idea, though. And, sure I could put up my second book, which is fresh and ready. But that's cheating. November's novel writing month (whatever that means), not display-the-novel-you-finished-last-spring month.
* Time for work.
