Thursday, June 26, 2008

Provincetown 21

I stayed up all night making changes to the manuscript. It always takes longer than I think it will. I crawled into bed early this morning and slept like a rock all day. I got up with incredible energy, walked to the PO, stopped by Far Land Grocery, and came home ready to tackle the writing again.

It was a beautiful evening. It was clear and very cool. It will be in the fifties tonight, my kind of weather.

The process of shaping and reshaping a narrative is a wondrous thing.

A young student of mine, upon receiving a post card from me, said the card had made him want to burn down his house and make for Cape Cod. I wrote him back and said by all means he should.

There's no better literary symbol of starting over than the burning down of one's house.

So often when you're writing, you just have to start over. As you retype, you also rethink and you deepen the story and the voice of the story. There's so much you want to hold onto because you've come to feel close to it, but it's poison to do that. You have to let it go.

As in life, sometimes you just have to burn down your house and start over.

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Dreaming

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"I was no better than dust, yet you cannot replace me. . . Take the soft dust in your hand--does it stir: does it sing? Has it lips and a heart? Does it open its eyes to the sun? Does it run, does it dream, does it burn with a secret, or tremble In terror of death? Or ache with tremendous decisions?. . ." --Conrad Aiken

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Fave Painting: Eden

Fave Painting:  Eden

Fave Painting: The Three Ages of Man and Death

Fave Painting:  The Three Ages of Man and Death
by Albrecht Dürer

From the First Chapter

The Secret of Hurricanes : That article in the Waterville Scout said it was Shake- spearean, all that fatalism that guides the Kennedys' lives. The likelihood of untimely death. Recently, another one died in his prime, John-John in an airplane. Not long before that, Bobby's boy. While playing football at high speeds on snow skis. Those Kennedys take some crazy chances. I prefer my own easy ways. Which isn't to say my life hasn't been Shake-spearean. By the time I was sixteen, my life was like the darkened stage at the end of Hamlet or Macbeth. All littered with corpses and treachery.

My Original Artwork: Triptych

My Original Artwork:  Triptych

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