Baking bread this afternoon. To west coast jazz, the usual background. Brooding about my novel.
No literal progress since introducing the new character but I am close to writing again. The old man rhythm is still new to me and such a far cry from my earlier obsessive rhythm, it's like a new occupation entirely. Moreover, I have lost the faith, so to speak, and no longer feel I am making any significant contribution to culture, literature, or anything but my own satisfaction. Writing has become very isolated. It's not that I want popularity. It's that I want evidence that literature actually mattes in the United States, the way I find evidence in Europe and overseas.
I spent most of my adult life sheltered in academia, a far cry from the citizens that H. L. Mencken knew so well and ridiculed constantly. Well, he was right, and we see where that got us.
Lots of loose ends to tie this week. Get Harriet's driver's license in order, an annual requirement. See our tax man this week, curious to see what is different from the year before, what with Trump tax law and Harriet not selling any paintings. Our 20th anniversary is tomorrow! I think Harriet will probably forget, so I won't make too big a deal of it, which would make her feel bad. Out to eat or some such.
Cool jazz is the last sure thing left. Has not lost any of its appeal to me, not a nudge. Music of the gods.
No literal progress since introducing the new character but I am close to writing again. The old man rhythm is still new to me and such a far cry from my earlier obsessive rhythm, it's like a new occupation entirely. Moreover, I have lost the faith, so to speak, and no longer feel I am making any significant contribution to culture, literature, or anything but my own satisfaction. Writing has become very isolated. It's not that I want popularity. It's that I want evidence that literature actually mattes in the United States, the way I find evidence in Europe and overseas.
I spent most of my adult life sheltered in academia, a far cry from the citizens that H. L. Mencken knew so well and ridiculed constantly. Well, he was right, and we see where that got us.
Lots of loose ends to tie this week. Get Harriet's driver's license in order, an annual requirement. See our tax man this week, curious to see what is different from the year before, what with Trump tax law and Harriet not selling any paintings. Our 20th anniversary is tomorrow! I think Harriet will probably forget, so I won't make too big a deal of it, which would make her feel bad. Out to eat or some such.
Cool jazz is the last sure thing left. Has not lost any of its appeal to me, not a nudge. Music of the gods.
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