NORTH DAKOTA QUARTERLY SHOWS GREAT TASTE

There I was yesterday, pretty discouraged about having the energy to keep rewriting Ghoul World, and I go home to discover that North Dakota State (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wikipedia:About) has found one of my poems, IN A MODERN LIBRARY, entertaining enough to put in their literary magazine. Good for them. I've always liked that poem myself. Seventeen rejections before it found a home. You know? If you don't have a big name reputation, then you experience a lot of rejection before something hits. It's just the way it is. I keep joking with Mertie that Ghoul World will hit and movie royalties come pouring in after I'm dead.

I mean, the novel includes a future Earth, a plague, a mystery, a private investigator, corporate greed, a poison vagina (my wife giggles at the thought of it), automatons, Neanderthals (what?), necessary and acceptable cannibalism (can't be helped), good aliens, space travel, global travel and a perfectly designed planet for a great environment (Alteregoia). What's not to like? It's well written too with a minimum of misspellings and grammatical errors. It just takes an agent with a large enough imagination to take it in.

MAILER AND ME AT AGE 84

Still working on the rewrite of Ghoul World. But I'm not
making much headway. Too many days, I get this sort of headache from sinus problems that blocks any clarity, and nearing the end of my life, I need clarity to go on. I don't really know what mentality it is that holds me back now or won't supply an adequate motivation to continue. I recall a visit to Mailer that someone made near the end of his life. The caller asked if he was working on anything. Mailer halfheartedly replied, "Yeah," but I didn't believe him. 

This photo is of Mailer at age 84, the same age I am as I write this. He's got more hair than me and more best sellers too, but I think I'm still handsomer and looking more fit than he does. Of course, I don't think he stopped drinking. I'm not sure of that, but not boozing can works wonders on your health.

GHOUL WORLD, GHOUL WORLD, GHOUL WORLD

Me behind reflections on my glasses with crooked smile as I begin the unknown number of another rewrite of my science fiction novel Ghoul World. You know? I believe in this novel. I knew it was a good idea when it first struck me in the head a decade or so back. Agents are dumb things, looking for I don't know what, but they are sure missing a good book with a potential to be turned into a sci-fi movie.
 

REWRITING GHOUL WORLD

Twenty-five days since my last entry here. This is not as it should be, but I am busy at writing. I have sent out more than 60 submissions in the last 20 days. I labored extremely carefully over a 50 page submission of my scifi novel Ghoul World to a publisher of novels. Took more than 5 hours to get it sounding as professional as I'm able. Hopes were sky high as I sent it off. You know how it is? You think this sounds just right to get their attention. It'll titillate them, and they'll want to read the rest of it. To get the novel ready for their request to see the whole thing, I'm rewriting for the 8th, 10th, 11th time??? Nothing is finished until someone publishes it. Is that the way with you?

I felt the same positive way about three 8 line lushi I sent off to a magazine that reads for half a month and publishes acceptances the second half of the next month. I worked diligently on convincing them my three lushi fit their requirements to a T. The say if they don't get back within three weeks forget it. November 1 will be three weeks, and I've heard nothing. Damn, the markets are filled with good writing, mine among it.

BEATNIK BEATS ON AFTER NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE

Photoprapher find here

Watching the Super Bowl half-heartedly. Fell into a creative funk for a couple of weeks after DAW rejected Ghoul World, and my poetry manuscript about prostate cancer experience also fell short in two prestigious contests. Of course, those contests were filled with many excellent manuscripts by well known poets. I shouldn't feel so bad, but I thought my writing days were done. Nothing was issuing from my inner sanctum except the sound of silence, but this week, a couple of poems were handed out through the sanctum doors into my conscious brain, and I began to write a memoir for the umpteenth time. I've got some interesting psychological thoughts and insights to share, but I have to deal with the old grouch synaptic self that undermines me at every turn. "What makes you think you've got anything worthwhile to say?" I sent Ghoul World limping out again. Hell, it's only been rejected about 20 times. What's that in the scheme of things? Nothing. And two eight line poems slipped into view from the synaptic self. I really love the eight line form and Hanshan's temperament that I fell in love with. Somewhere in my unconscious self, there exists a hermit in the Chinese mountains.

THE NEWS IS IN AND IT'S ALL BAD

The poetry ms based on my bout with prostate cancer has come back from University of Pittsburg Press and from Iowa University too. Also novel Ghoul World has been rejected by DAW Publishing. I truly thought the novel had a good chance and was holding my breath. Perhaps self publishing with Amazon will be the final act, not that self publishing with Authorhouse is helping me sell my two poetry books: Grayhouse By Cold Mountain and Tenderfoot. I'm also bored with intermediate algebra. Yesterday, I drove North to Ilani Casino and gambled a very little money away, but I was tempted to get more money and keep going, hoping for a big hit. Scary thinking to be having when one is disappointed in other things in life. Alcoholic thinking?

The photo is one of the slots at Ilani in case you're interested.

BEATNIK SILENTLY STUMBLES INTO ALGEBRA

As of November 30, 2018, I've stopped writing and returned to working on intermediate algebra problems. It's fun to sit in coffee shops and work problems and learn new things. When I retired in 2003 at age 66, I began working at algebra. I monitored courses at the community college in Spokane. I had the goal of learning calculus. My father was a tool designer and, of course, as a CNC machinist, I used lots of math to perform my duties. Math is in my genes so to speak.

I did not win the Agnes Lynch Starrett Poetry Prize at the University of Pittsburg Press where I had submitted my ms based on my prostate cancer. The poetry was authentic and pretty decent, actually, but the competition is stiff. All the most recognized and ambitious poets submit to it, so it's no disgrace not to win. The same ms is still at the Iowa Review, and Ghoul World is still at DAW which says it will take at least 3 mos. to respond. I've still got several poetry submissions out at various literary magazines, and I do have a piece of prose history that's to be published by Geoff Peterson's in his Archipelago.

The reason I've stopped writing to be honest is that I tried to write a poem the other day. If writing is going well, the writer gets hits of emotion as he works. They reward writing. When those emotional jolts disappear, there's no impulse to continue writing. Writing is its own reward, and when one isn't being self-rewarded, it's time to take a break.

SILENT BEAT BOOMER SUBMITS AT LAST

Photo by

Outside this River Maiden espresso joint in Vancouver Washington, a leaf blower is swooshing wet leaves into mountains of golden red. A blue sky peeks between brilliant white clouds above. The sun at the moment is hidden. Last night, I sent off Ghoul World to DAW Publishing. Happily, I was able to use Submittable. Last time I checked, DAW wanted hard copy. I'm glad I checked one last time before I got the ms printed and shipped off. It would have cost me less than 100 dollars to get it printed and shipped. I could have printed it myself too, but the task felt daunting, so I planned to act wealthy and get it done for me. Instead, DAW accepted the ms for free, not even a nominal Submittable fee. They'll report in less than 3 months.

Truthfully? I feel little hope Ghoul World will be accepted. It's well written, but I don't think it's modern enough for young tastes. It's a science fiction film noir with a private investigator. I had in mind Blade Runner, the movie when I began. Perhaps not enough action. The last three chapters are purely expository, as a character called Urthana explains the utopian world of Alteregoia where Charley Manning finds himself at novel's end.

COLD BEATNIKS THE SILENT BOOMER

cathode ray tube brain injection

My plan was to rewrite just the final 3 chapters one more time because I felt I'd grown careless as the long process of the 11th rewrite drew to a close. So I got two chapters done pretty fast, then a cold struck, and I'm just coming out of that cold. Hope this week to finish the 12th rewrite of the last chapter. I checked into getting someone other than me to print it out, since the publisher wants to receive those old fashioned manuscripts rather than electronic files that are now common in the market place. Boy, colds get me down nowadays, sap my strength and attitude too, but I got a ray injection into my brain. 

BIG BANGED BEATNIK

Eleventh rewrite done. Reduced the novel Ghoul World by 168 pages and by 54,595 words. The last two chapters produce a problem. They are explanatory and introduce a utopian theme to the dystopian ending and they explain all that has gone before for the reader. I kept a lot of things mysterious to the reader till the end. I fear to submit it in this state. I can see it as a movie, and, oh, so much would not be included that is in the novel. What a problem! Could an entirely new vision and revision be required? A 12th rewrite? Good heavens and gadzooks.

BEAT NEAR END OF REWRITE

A beautiful drizzly warm Vancouver USA day. I'm still poised before my laptop, writing away. I'm at Chapter 51 of the 52 chapter Ghoul World. This rewrite has taken a little more than a month longer than I planned. Hope to finish in another week, two weeks at most. I think writers usually take a little longer on their projects than they guesstimate. 

Photo Marvin Ronsdorf

Chapter 51 introduces a happy surprise—a happy sad ending. I guarantee progressive readers with the environment in mind will be most pleased at the final two chapters. In the last chapter, a possibility for more novels presents itself. At the moment, at age 80 [81 on the 20th of October], I cannot imagine another novel, but the opening is there in case I or another writer would like to pursue it, an ending with a much greater latitude of possibilities than most novels written as serial fiction. I can't tell you why that is true. My revelation would ruin the novel.

BEAT BEAT

Caption

There are days like this in everyperson's life when s/he wants to quit writing at last for good. Confronting the very small odds that one, even if one writes pretty well, will find an agent who will find a publisher, let alone a movie producer who'll produce the film s/he wrote the novel Ghoul World to reach, is daunting. Sigh. Specially if one's age suggests his/her thoughts may be out of date. But here s/he sits, poised at a Barnes & Noble with laptop open ready to go to work. 

AMAZING MENTAL GYMNASTICS, KEN KESEY

Facebook informed me last night that everyone was waiting with bated breath for my next entry. Also, nowadays, Facebook keeps inviting me to boost my blog entries with dollars. I have refrained from that thus far. Is boosting worth anything? I'm not going to pretend I don't want people waiting for my sci fi novel to come out.

My last entry, if you recall, was about all the balls one must keep in the air—the memory required—to write a novel, specially a detective novel with many mental mazes included within its pages. Sometimes the thing to be recalled is quite simple. Just this morning, my character, Charley Manning, was recalling his last meeting on the sidewalk before his apartment building with Misty Frampton. Then I had to recall whether or not I'd removed that meeting for some other important reason. At last, not able to find the meeting, I kept in his thought about last seeing Misty [for romantic reasons], but I removed the reference to any specific place. That's a simple example how things must be juggled. An example of why Ken Kesey quit writing.

PS: I keep extensive plot notes, but, then I make changes and don't update the notes. The notes become as much of a distraction as the novel itself.

DE NIRO, SCORSESE, AND A BEATNIK MEMORY OF DESPAIR

I'm on page 288 of remaining 402 pages of Ghoul World. With only 113,812 words remaining, I'm sure to get below 400 pages and maybe below 100,000 words before rewrite is completed. The publisher I intend to send Ghoul World to says they prefer novels to be above 80,000 words.
  
As is obvious to anyone reading Silent Boomer, I've been on a tear for last year. Inspired by Han-Shan, I wrote many more than 100 lüshis. Now back at novel rewrite. Have in back of my mind writing another screenplay but subject matter is cloudy. Could be based on Ghoul World for all I know or another novel of mine, The Porn Writer.

Watched one of my favorite movies last night. Taxi Driver. Before I quit drinking, I often had moments when I felt like Travis Bickle [minus murderous thoughts], alienated, angry, alone and despairing. I used to call it existential angst. Was it so philosophical or was it merely feeling sorry for self? No matter what I call those moods, I was driven once to crash my car on purpose, accelerating while going around a corner so fast I knew I couldn't make it. The act was totally unplanned,  happened in an instant on the spur of that cornered moment. I'm so far removed from those days I can't bring the feelings up anymore. Sometimes, for the sake of my art, I'll wish I could, but do I really? My thought as I accelerated was, "They'll be sorry." The women in my mind at the time shall go nameless. That's everything I know about suicide. How many times have I told this tale?

SILENTLY BOOMING ALONG WITH REWRITE

Facebook informed me today that people who look into "The Silent Boomer" hadn't heard from me in a long while. I see it's only nine days. Many times, it's been longer than that. But I have little to say. I'm still on 10th rewrite of Ghoul World. I'm definitely improving it by shortening it. Tell you what.... When I rewrite this many times, I see whole new ways to structure the novel that would shorten it even more, but, then, character would suffer in the hands of expediency. It's a balance in a science fiction mystery novel between character and plot. I've eliminated 2 chapters but added chapters by splitting long chapters into smaller ones. I began this rewrite with 534pp and 157,025 words. Now at 410pp and 116,525 words with 130pp to go. I see no damage at all to plot or character. Big lesson, eh?

About garbage disposal issues. I think I did not need to replace the last unit. Had I read the instruction booklet, I'd have known that in the bottom of the unit is a little red RESET BUTTON. Cost me $200 to learn this lesson. Education is expensive. Always read your manuals, George. Otherwise, savvy plumbers grow rich. College did not teach me about savvy plumbers with trade secrets. However it did teach me not to vote for lying people with dictatorial personalities. Plumbers learn one thing and college graduates learn another—well—most of them do. Who says college graduates won't love dictators?

OLD BEATNIK, CZESLAW MILOSZ & F. SCOTT FITZGERALD

Nearly midnight, 7th of August. Thanks to all who have

Black Virgin at Rocamadour

been checking in, but what little is there to relate? Knocking off a chapter a weekday of 10th rewrite of Ghoul World. Sometimes two or one and a half chapters. I'd like to get the word count down near 100,000 words, but that is still a long way to go. I'm cutting out many of my favorite tales and thoughts, but who says main character Charley Manning must spill everything I know? I'm leaving in his romance with Misty Frampton and his sexual dalliance with Beaunita (if that's her real name) though they could go and boy would that shorten the novel.

Roc Amadour

Finished at last 20th Century American Poetry, Vol. I. I think I renewed it about 5 times during two different check out periods. Quickly finished Great Gatsby and have returned to reading poetry of Czeslaw Milosz in Selected And Last Poems 1931-2004. Powerful poem The Rising Of The Sun that imaginatively constructs his leaving naturalism to become a poet, inspired by a visit to Roc Amadour, a legendary religious center. Will I ever be able to remember how to spell his name w/o cheating? Watching DVDs of "Hinterland" and "Garrow's Law" with my dear wife after she comes home from work. So lovely to share so much.

BEATNIK'S BIG TOE, F. SCOTT FITZGERALD & J.D. SALINGER

Wow! 118 people took a look at this blog today, and I've not got much to report except a big toe that is infected with cellulitis which "is a potentially dangerous bacterial infection that affects the deeper layers of the skin, including the dermis, or second layer of the skin." Soaking in Epson Salt and using antibacterial unguent and swallowing antibacterial pills. Lesson learned? "Do not pull hangnails off of toes". 

Rewrite of Ghoul World is proceeding apace. Came upon a scifi publisher attached to Penguin that is accepting unagented manuscripts. Rare. Very rare. I must hurry to finish the current rewrite of the novel and send it in to that publisher before the window closes again. I keep seeing the book as a movie. The cinematic effects will be really fascinating. A world of workaday zombies who call themselves "ghouls". 

Current reading? Poetry and  The Great Gatsby for the 4th or so time. Fitzgerald and Salinger—I never tire of them.

OLD SILENT BEATNIK JUMPS THROUGH A BIG WINDOW

Wow, good week. Nearly 200 people checked in, and a poem "Reams Of Poetry Adrift" has been accepted by Big Windows Review. It will appear online August 10 and in hard copy, I believe, in November, Issue 13. Thank you Editor Tom Zimmerman and students working with him.

Rewrite of Ghoul World is moving along. I keep putting different chapters first, trying to catch the reader's attention. I think I've got it now. Shifting chapters around creates problems for this old brain. Being a science fiction novel, a certain amount of information has to be presented. Making sure the same information isn't offered repeatedly or that it's presented in a coherent sequence calls for a much younger brain than my own. I hope I'm successful. I've eliminated nearly 2000 words in just 24 pages. I've a bad habit of thinking I must explain everything to my readers, and when I'm writing a scene, I sometimes put in too many qualifying clauses and phrases to explain the action, such as, "He was stunned. Before he could think about it, he strode to the door and disappeared into the fog." Sometimes, the sentence could as easily read, "Stunned, he disappeared into the fog." Depends. Every time I rewrite, I change things. Always.

BACK TO THE STINKING WORLD OF GHOULS FOR THIS OLD BEAT

Thanks to all who continue to check in on this writer's blog. I think my muse has finally gotten through to me. Time for change. I wrote something like 150 eight line poems. Nothing much has been stirring since, but, then I'm also not reading the lucid and peaceful poetry of Chinese poets inspired by Buddhism, the Tao or Confucian thought. The end to writing poetry means that I will return to another rewrite of Ghoul World and the two item bucket list beginning next week, probably, unless this old brain forgets what it thinks it might do today next week. 

The human animal, well "me" at least, is odd. Just a month ago, I thought I had maybe a year or two ahead before the return of my high risk prostate cancer would take my life. Told I'll "probably" have 8-10 more years and die of congestive heart failure, I've gone back to obsessing about politics, and will Lebron leave Cleveland. Doctor was funny too. At one point, I said to him, "I'm not ready to go yet." A little later he said, "In 8 years you'll be a different person." Took me awhile to realize that in 7 years most all my cells will have been renewed with accompanying miscommunication failures. I might be ready to turn in my steel suit and retire from the battle against evil        

....IF?

NO FEAR LIKE SPIDER FEAR... OR OF A CLOWN

Today, my task is to complete a table of contents for a 76 poem ms of 8 line poetry. I'm entering it in a contest with deadline of June 30th. I guess I'll call it Wrestling Hanshan as is the longer ms entitled that I've selected the poems from.

I've been kind of down these past few days. This morning I went in to get a blood draw to test my PSA level. I was scheduled to go in June 1, but I held back. It's been six months since last test and I fear, for no good reason at all, the PSA level is on its way up. I'll soon know. If so, the cancer would be back. Last two days have felt very tentative and melancholy. I made the mistake of watching a video about Roger Ebert last night—Life Itself. He died of cancer. The man had no lower jaw, could not eat or drink the final years of his life. It was not uplifting to watch.

Yesterday, I rode the Max into Portland just to change pace. Read Milosz's poetry and sat around at sidewalk tables, watching people. Tried to write some poetry but haven't looked at it today to see if anything still clicks. The rewrite of the novel Ghoul World draws near, I think. The impulse to write poems seems to have eased.