Spent the evening reading
some more Poe, then quit. Tried watching a few videos on Poe on YT. Po' old
Poe. Only 40 when he died. His struggle to make a living by writing reminds me
only too much of Mike ... and his quest to find love, and the seeking relief in
drink and drugs, and the compromises with the dirty devices of the world, and
the constant rejection of what he had to offer. And the weird, vicious humor
that animates his writing, not always acknowledged by his readers; Mike shares
that too.
Blah. I'm too full of
bananas; I ate five this evening. My poor legs. They seem to just be getting
worse. Does it herald worse circulation, warn me of perhaps a fatal heart
disfunction coming on? Perhaps; it wouldn't surprise me. And what can I do
about it, my conditions being what they are?
10/28/2019: Up a little
after 5 AM; prayer, catechism, Bible. Got some writing done: Jocasta’s
interview with Trager.
At 9 AM started the wash.
Got the stuff to make Kameron a sausage patty and scrambled eggs, took them in,
and then he tells me he only wants an apple! He eats some of the sausage and
gives me the rest (I had already fried myself up a couple of patties to eat on
a sandwich). Call Andy and confirm; no chicken salad today, so that's less work
I have. Got Kam off at 10:25 AM, swept porch, changed load, and went in.
Connection had been good all morning to listen to Gilbert Gottfried. At noon
went off to get wash and S&A were there, cleaning Babe's rug (the last
inside cat); her peeing is not getting into the box anymore. Connection poops
out at 12:20 PM, coinciding with caution beeps going off throughout the land,
so I expect construction is back on (it was damp and cloudy all morning).
October is really zipping by now.
Between 1 and 2 PM I made
the broccoli salad; yes, it takes at least an hour to prepare. Between 2 and
3:20 PM I was able to finish my YouTube shows; I keep thinking about setting
down to write again but feel not the slightest inclination, if also an urge to
finish Aunt Jocasta before Halloween. Grass dogs, feed pets, and start supper
(fish rolls and couscous, again). Kam comes home just a little later (say 4:30
PM) than usual. I, having eaten my salad while waiting, take my couscous back
to my house and prepare it with a cup of noodles. Having started Dracula after
abandoning Poe, I decide to drop that after reaching the end of Harker's first
adventure. 'Tis strange, but I always consider Poe as being older than me;
probably from when I first read him as a boy, when his experience seemed to
make him centuries older. Now that I realize he was only forty, he seems almost
a brat. After the death of his beloved Virginia, he was wooing about THREE
different ladies at the same time. Well, he certainly seems to have lived more
life than I ever have in so short a life.
Looked back in my diary for
today in 2018. I was writing Sergeant Roth. Wow. That seems a forever ago. I
was still waiting for the editor to get back to me about AGODP.
From John: I know what you mean regarding Poe - both in
terms of his Mike-ishness and his relative age. I had a dream the other morning
with Mike in it- I don't remember any of the details except that he had been
trying to get me to go along with some scheme or another and was putting on his
full charm offensive. I decided against it,
and immediately his mask fell and he turned hateful and vindictive - an
occurrence that happened more than once for real- and it reminded me of that
side of Mike - just a hurtful outrageous selfishness- usually the more nasty
activities would bring it out of him. A complicated,
sometimes surprisingly mysterious person.
I guess it is healthier to consider the good and bad in everyone,
ourselves included- painful though it can be, and know we are all weak and
stupid about certain subjects and fall prey to making dumb mistakes. There
would be no need for God's mercy otherwise.
Me: And I know what you mean
about Mike. But then the dead all seem mysterious, once they are dead. When
they are alive, they appear so obvious. They are what they are, and you think
they are plain as pikestaffs, and then you find hints (sometimes from other
people who saw other facets of them) that there are hidden corners you never
thought to question, or perhaps never dared to, or that perhaps just couldn't
be expressed. I suppose we all carry mysteries like that to our graves.
"For now we see as in a mirror darkly, but then we shall see face to face;
now I know in part, but then I shall know and also be known." I know I have
some rotten shabby corners. I suppose we'll all look at each other pretty
sheepishly, ask forgiveness, forgive, have a good laugh, and then forget all
about it. Mike appears in my dreams in pretty dubious and desperate situations,
but seldom angry. In fact, in one he seemed rather pleased with my book. You
appeared in my dreams lately: I was being chased by bears and you and Joey
popped up over the brow of a hill with guns and started shooting them.
John: That's true about the dead, isn't it? I guess
you try to put people into some kind of totality in your mind, to file them
away, like we do all things that are past, but being multidimensional beings,
they resist such easy categorization, and we are seeing them, really for the
first time in a way. I dream of Mike a lot, a couple of times a week, most
weeks- and he arrives in many different moods and modes, sometimes really
great, sometimes like the other day's dream. I've dreamt of having arguments
with Mom and Pop that were rough, too - more so than I ever had with them in
life. What exactly is that about, I wonder? Unresolved issues, I guess. Sigh.
10/29/2019: Up about 6:30
AM, got dressed, prayers, catechism, Bible. Made ramen. Settled down to write
and got the kitchen scene with Greta done. Kam called (Susan had taken him to
the dentist) at 9:40 AM and asked me to start breakfast; fried him some bacon
and scrambled eggs. They got here a little after 10 AM and he went out to wait
for the bus at 10:20 AM, and I with him. When done, locked up the house, made
lunch ramen, and said a Rosary. Now 12:20 PM, connectivity is bad, and I'm
thinking about laying down for a nap. Weather coolish, but calm, a little
drippy. Rosary.
So at 2 PM I made a sausage
patty sandwich (microwaved it too hard) and some popcorn, in the big house as
I'm too cowardly to use mine after it sparked that day. At 4PM I grassed and
fed and started supper (sausages and cabbage and taters). Kam home at 4:30 PM.
He called me at 7 PM to grass the chis again, and get him: a patty, Tx toast,
and 2 corn dogs. He said S&A had gone to a wedding, and I saw the supper
was untouched. I am going in at 9 PM to put it away, or at least get it ready
to put away when they get home, leaving it out warm in case they want to eat.
To John: As I mentioned I am working on a new short
story, "Aunt Jocasta", based on a dream I had many years ago. I am
hoping to have it done by Halloween, and I hope I haven't just jinxed it by
mentioning the fact. I don't know what it is about deadlines that holds me in a
dread fixation as they approach, like a bird paralyzed in the gaze of an
approaching serpent. At least I have been pecking away at the tale for the last
few days, forcing myself down to it, and feel some confidence in the story as I
proceed. I have a suspicion that I surround the writing process with a bunch of
conditions and taboos and "feels", just as lazy excuses not to do it.
Generally when I do apply myself, I have quite a good time doing it, so why the
reluctance?
Don't know if it's the
weather or the season or what, but I find myself skipping and cackling and
popping off Tourette's-like quotes and voices, often in an excess of
nervousness. Nervous ... yes, I am very nervous, but why do you insist on
calling me mad? Just because I'm seeing moving shadows in glass doors that fall
from nowhere, and now with the fans off I hear every little creak and pop and
unidentifiable scuffle from outside, and, yes, from inside as well? This is not
insanity, but the sudden awakening from a foolish sleep! Wait ... there! There
at the window! The three-lobed burning eye of madness! Aiyeeeeee ....!
We now return you to your
regularly scheduled program.
10/30/2019: Up at 4 AM, and
between getting dressed, prayers, catechism, Bible, breakfast, making Kameron’s
breakfast at 4 AM, getting him on his way at 10:20 AM, wrote nine pages by 11
AM. Day cold and drippy; had to take towel in and out of the house to keep my
shoes clean.
Took a nap until two and
made a sausage patty sandwich for lunch; mayonnaise is really too salty to go
with the sausage. Popped some corn. Day still cold and cloudy but not so wet.
Feel that I'm in a good march of the end of AJ. Heard and saw the yearly flock
of crows pass over the back yard.
Blah, blah, and so on.
Reheated stuff for supper. Had a leftover sausage at 8 PM when I cleaned up,
and they gave me a roll from Whataburger. Rosary. Bed at 10 PM.
10/31/2019: Halloween. Up at
3 AM, wrote down dream, started writing on AJ. Dressed, prayed, catechism and
Bible at intervals, and by 7:30 wrote "Happy Halloween, Aunt
Jocasta". I am a short coda away from being done with the first draft.
Pausing to eat.
Wrote the coda; sent copies
to John and Kenny a little before 9 AM. Peeled Kameron's apple at 9 AM. Now
making myself some stuffing. The day is bright and clear, just as I predicted
for Halloween in AJ before the sun even rose. I am in that happy little handful
of hours where I don't feel obliged to work on any writing. Went in at 10 AM
and got Kam off to school, after standing with him near at the end of the
driveway. Came in, cleaned up, and now it's 11 AM and time for a nap.
John replied at 2:19 PM: Ah!
Now it feels like Halloween! Well done, indeed.
Reminds me of Bradbury in his ghoulish mode! Of course being a fiendish
fan of such concoctions, I deduced the twist; but the buildup and payoff was
masterfully constructed- and the bit of Samuel's offing Greta did surprise me
nicely- a gruesome sauce on top! Thanks for the Halloween inspiration! 🎃
About 7 PM Andy brought me
out the traditional Halloween Sonic corn dogs - 4 of them, with a bunch of
mustard. Yummy! Rosary, and early to bed.
Spent the day with no
writing. At 3 PM grassed and fed animals, then waited on the porch reading for
Kam to get home. He came at 4:30 PM and I took all the broccoli salad for
supper and turned in. About 7 PM while I was saying the rosary Andy came in,
gave me the rest of the pecan pies, and said I could have some of the stew from
his dad's party. I said tomorrow. I went to bed about 9 PM.
