How to tell a story

How to tell a story

Tuesday, September 29, 2015





Major changes going on with me. I spent hours yesterday in my basement office, the house cleaner upstairs, with a perfect time to write on Titanic. I didn't even open the file. It's not that I don't like the concept -- it could be my best work. But so what? I have lost the faith that literature matters in my culture. It's been perverted into a marketplace commodity. The age of literature is over, says Philip Roth, and he is right. A new sensibility, a new kind of mental focus, has been born, against brooding, reflection, all things slow. Opinion now matters more than knowledge. Everyone thinks they are free. What a perverse joke. We have created a society of consumer slaves, who need "likes" on Facebook to justify themselves. Sick sick sick.

In this environment, why write? A major theme in Titanic!! Which is why I may yet finish it, once winter comes and there's not much else to do. We shall see, we shall see. It is indeed a great concept. So what?

What interests me most now, the activity, is cooking. I get off on cooking ... as now, paella in the oven. Gerry Mulligan playing. As happy as possible for me, I think.

And Harriet is getting a sense of humor about her old age! She made a great joke about it going out the door today. Hopeful sign she can turn her whining feeling sorry for herself mode around.

If I were young today, 20s or 30s, I would leave the country. Where I'd like to go has weather that would be hard for me: Iceland, Nova Scotia, Scandanavia. Not sure where I'd end up. Maybe live in a van and be a vagabond here. Also, I'd have to make a living.

Man, have I been lucky in that department! I've mostly been able to survive as an artist, with grants, with projects, with teaching, with help from others. Remarkable because I am sure I could not do this today. Far fewer opportunities. Again, a major factor in my blessed life is being born before Pearl Harbor, being a teenager at the birth of rock and roll, being too young for Korea, a Cold War vet by Vietnam, becoming a literary writer at a time of good grant support, getting a commission for hyperdrama that would put me far ahead of the curve, resulting in now being "in the canon" of first generation hypertext, an obscure honor far, far better than nothing, believe me ... and actually, after I pass, I think some grad student somewhere is going to discover my novels, which I consider high on my list of accomplishments. 3 or 4 are worth lasting, and SODOM, GOMORRAH & JONES captures America's dilemma today, by my lights. Blah blah blah. Ha ha ha.
See why I quit writing?

I hope Harriet gets her shit together. Day to day stuff would be much more fun if she wasn't feeling sorry for herself all the time. Her friends and family don't see that. She is a proud lady with skill at showing a front. I don't benefit from the charade.

Her joke on herself today was great! More moroe more! Man, if you can't laugh at old age, you are in deep shit.
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