NOVEL BEATNIK CLOTHING AND SINGER SEWING MACHINES

Grandma (left) and Grandpa Thomas and his mother

Aargh! That's right ... aargh! This morning, I realized, for the sake of plausibility, I had to make a change in the novel. It had to do with Irishers and wild humans. That change led to another change. By using the search and change function, the changes were easy to make, but, now, uncertainty and doubt arise. I'm not sure that my changes aren't creating other implausible situations. I try to think through the novel, but can't think clearly enough. I could start at the beginning again and read through the first 200+ pages just to make sure the alterations haven't made the pants too short for the legs ... OR ... I can plow ahead and complete the suit, wait for the first read through that follows the completion of the whole novel. But, I think, alarmed, waiting might allow other plot complications to build up until the entire novel is distorted. The situation is complicated by the fact I took several days off to drive up to Seattle to practice dancing with my daughter for her upcoming wedding. I'm starting this morning with a cold sewing machine motor. Which reminds me of my grandmother who had a Singer that had a foot pedal. When I lived with her and Grandpa Thomas, I recall her toiling away, pumping that foot pedal and sewing complete novels of suits and dresses. Sneakily, I hope my mention of Irishers and wild humans gets your attention about the novel.

THE BEATNIK BRAIN ON SLEEP ... OR NOT ... ASPECTS

One of the most difficult aspects of writing at my age is getting enough sleep each night to bring a fresh mind to the task. Yawning my way through a manuscript doesn't lend itself to creative leaps of insight. 

Aspects ... that's a word that rings a synapse or two. I clearly recall, while I was failing to get my master's degree at Southern Illinois University, reading somewhere about teaching English 101 that the word "aspects" was being used way too frequently in scholarly papers and other essays. Don't recall who wrote the article in which that appeared or the rest of the article at all. All I recall is that one idea about that one word ... aspects.

source of photo found here

I'm doing a final rewrite of The Man In the Mirror, a final polish. Wife Mertie, seeing what I was doing as she headed off to bed and come to my side for our goodnight kiss, asked me what I was up to. She couldn't imagine I would be going through the novel again. Made me realize just how difficult and time consuming the writing of a novel is.

Another thing I realize as I go red-penciling through the first novel I ever wrote, and initially wrote in 11 weeks—I always work better on a hard copy rather than a computer screen when it comes to a final polish. Of course, a book is never completely finished in my mind. I don't care how often my brain rewrites, it will come up with another way to say almost anything it's tried to say another way. 

I'M BEATNICKED, BUSHED AND LEFTOVER

I looked into what they need at the Red & Black Cafe in an owner/associate. Damn! I see it would require a greater investment of time than I want to give, and, also, a physical stamina that's beyond my capacity though I'm healthy enough. My ambitions saw all the upside and overlooked the cliff of the downside. Thanks to Olin Unterwegner for following through and coming up with the information about the Cafe's needs. He writes they are also fund raising and pursuing a crowd funding option. For more info, see link to Cafe above. Any contributions to the worker-owned business would be appreciated, I'm sure.  

see photo source

As for moime's boy, I haven't written on The Last Days of Planet Earth (aka Manning) but one day out of the last six. Political nonsense has wakened me at all hours of the night and early morn. Yawningly tired and distracted, I've not been able to find the vitality that leads to good writing. However—CELEBRATION—I did finish entering the last pages of The Man In The Mirror into editable files. Will print it up and give to Mertie to proofread and make suggestions, if she has any. I wouldn't have made this effort had she not said she liked the novel when she read it, and she's an avid mystery reader. Frankly, I see some problematic writing in it, but I've polished as best I could while I typed it into computer files. No major revision. Mertie said, as I typed the last sentence, that she was amazed that a person could take on a typing task like that and complete it. She hates the paper work part of the job she now has.  

Now I have two novels to send around while I finish Manning, and I have two other novels that need rewriting.

SILENT BOOMER BEATNIKS HIS WAY TOWARD A BUSINESS OPPORTUNITY

Writerly things! An automatic mental jump shift occurs in my approach to Manning, the character, when I write the words "Charley Manning" in a sentence and when I write only "Manning". In the first instance, I experience a jump shift of POV from the interior Manning into my roll as the omniscient observer. This shift encourages me to look around at the scene Manning's entering, to give some details that aren't attached to Manning's stream of consciousness. I believe it adds realistic pieces that Manning might miss because of his intentions in the scene and that I might miss because of how I intend to advance the plot.

For a' that, writing went damn well this morning down at the Torque in the heart of Vancouver. Most of the afternoon, I've been in Portland, walking around, preparing to meet a couple of cronies at Bob's Red Mill for dinner. I briefly visited Powell's Books. Right now, I'm eating chips and drinking a Sprite at the Lucky Lab on Hawthorne. I tried to go up 12th to the worker owned Red & Black Cafe only to discover that no one was working at the moment, even though the hours posted say someone is there. Talking to a couple of young men sitting at an outside table, I learned that only three workers currently own the joint. If someone's got some cash and a lot of energy, there's a chance at the Red & Black to make something happen. They recently bought the building so there's a mortgage. You know? When I finish my damn novel, I can see myself working there and making it happen. Another place for poetry readings and talk of revolution. The Portland Wolf Pack was meeting there last time Mertie and I visited. What couldn't be accomplished with some imagination and a little cash? Huh?