Sunday, March 20, 2011
TURN UP THE MUSIC AND BUST OUT ALL THE WINDOWS BECAUSE IT'S SUNDAY AND THINGS ARE WAY TOO QUIET.
…I have two new stories, "Pointilism" and "Black and Blue," plus an interview with editor, Dan Triacarico, at LITSNACK. I have a story, "Wounded" at d.ustb.in and also, "Snakes" up at Housefire. All of these are also here under "Words In Print."
…It's Sunday morning and I am the only one awake and have been for a few hours. I'm sitting in my office naked but for the quilted blanket I've wrapped myself in and the sun is a peeping tom over a cosp of trees and the lake is a sheet of gray-blue glass with wing patterns printed on it from where the geese keep flying overhead and a small boat with two ambitious fishermen just scooted by and I think it's so pretty, this morning and this lake, and I am becoming just a bit seduced by the stillness and loveliness of it all, and now for some strange reason that's making me a titch sad--to be surrounded by so much beauty--and so i'm hiking this blanket up high over my shoulders, all the way up to my chin, and i'm peering out at world a little warily.
…If you could see me you would know that I am mostly pretzel sticks, stalks, limbs, twigs, toothpicks. I am thin. I am a thin man.
I never think of myself that way, though--as a man. I always picture myself as a boy, a thin boy, aloof and shy, no less needy than a rescued pound dog, nudging this or that palm with a wet snout, wanting to be petted or rubbed, verified, validated, maybe even loved a little. I have scruff that requires a little scratch and fondle, a tight tug and perhaps the words, "Aww, you're so cute. Who could have ever ditched you?" I am that reticent third grader-fourth grader-fifth sixth seventh twelfth grader, executive, writer-guy in an office overlooking a lake, wondering how I got here, what it means, if anything, feeling like that stray dog again, nudging air instead of anyone's palm, nudging air, just thinking too much, as usual.
…These are some bits I like on a Sunday:
…"We do not write because we want to. We write because we have to." Sommerset Maugham
--"I've never struck a woman in my life. Not even my own mother." WC Fields
--"We're in the punch-in-the-gut business, comrade." Stace Budzko
--"The constant need to move--this is strong advice for any storyteller. Get on with it.
--"A writer is a professional exhibitionist. The reader is the voyeur he hopes to lure." Mark Budman
--"A novel invites the reader to explore an entire house, down to snooping in the closets; a short story requires that the reader stand outside of an open window to observe what's going on in a single room; and a short short requires the reader to kneel outside of a locked room and peer in through the keyhole." Kate Wilhelm
--"Stare. It is the way to educate your eye, and more. Stare. Pry. Listen. Eavesdrop…You are not here long." Walker Evans