Category: Reading


From journal

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After midnight. It’s now time to write in this book that I have neglected. I feel like writing, not only feeling more inspired to do more varied things these days, but also having the time to follow such a philosophy. This is a good opportunity, as the ideas are crystallized and complete. having outside, motivating forces is good too, but can make things seem a bit fragmented.

Written in an “Oxford” notebook: “Use this notebook to consolidate all the other research and notes, a culmination of the last ten or so years of research and reading (and writing). Not perfection! But a road to such, maybe as a testing method, a means of as you go, so it goes. Memory and mind in motion… I like that idea, that the narrative shifts and things continue to change while the energy pulls it along and the focus is really sharp on certain things. The point now is just to bring them all together. No more computer except for the final stages… three drafts on the typewriter, then finalize it. This notebook can be for reading and other ideas. The purpose of my life now is to think long-term and not to write ideas because I don’t (haven’t) review(ed) what came before. I do have a focus and a continuity of thought (like never before), yet, it has not produced a complete, unified work. Cannot compare… everyone has their own method and means. Point is, I have the latent talent, and, over the course of ten years, the ability has solidified. Probably he same for learning a language–after ten years, it’s there, especially with a systematic approach. I’ve had enough experiences and have many more memories than I can ever use or be able to use in a lifetime of creation. Not about quotas though, and it shouldn’t be, though I do think an outside force is good for producing quality in a limited span of time. Editing this novel this novel over six years was definitely an experience of its own, and now that I’m finally finalizing it, I’m prepared to bring my now-self to the next novel.”

I love and cherish writing like never before—ideas bring a smile and a joy that few things do. The actual waiting can be a little tough, as it’s a process that cannot be master the first time through, meaning it must be revised again and again, especially complicated and deep stuff, and also fitting parts and pieces together and attempting to unify the mood. Yes, some stuff comes randomly, but that is rare and that stuff is complete in itself, whether a concept or a sentence, but it is almost impossible to sustain that kind of inspiration for more than a scene. Sure, Goethe did it early every morning when he was completing part two of Faust, but that book was percolating and fermenting inside of him for more than sixty years. Bottom line: being a writer is a career, a job, something that must be done everyday, with diligence and motivation, over a long period of time to see any results.

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Failure: zero books finished. Maybe 700 pages, but spread amongst five or six books, and none completed.

Instead I completed another draft (fifteenth and final?) Of a novel that’s taken six years too long.

It’s just about ready. Along with a number of stories. Said I’d send them out this month… April is over. Time to act on those tasks I’ve put off for too long…

Oh, and the typewriter is broken, so it must be fixed before work commences on the newest novel.

Blindness

Finished reading Blindness last night. It wasn’t that great. It was good, it really was, maybe an 8.5 out of a 10 overall, and there were spectacular moments, but overall… I don’t know… and the ending… maybe Ulysses is spoiling me… but I’ll definitely read more of Saramago, starting with Seeing.