Tag: #Journal

  • Solving the Small Problem First

    It is cold today. Not just the normal cold, but actually 20 degrees. I know things get cold here, but it has been awhile since it has been this cold. I decided that it was too cold for the grocery shopping which I had planned down at the 93rd Trader Joe’s. It’s a just a “stay in” kind of day.

    And as such, I have a free day – sort of – at least, one I wasn’t planning on. I am doing what I normally do, which is starting off with the blog. Next, I will put in some journal time. The last thing for the day will be working on a story.

    This has been my pattern of writing since September when the kid went back to school. I have to say that the results have been mixed. Not bad, but I was expecting that I would have completed more work, and would be in a better position for submitting work. (In four days, One Story Magazine starts taking submissions again, and I plan on sending them something.) I still feel that I need more material in the bank, but I think that is a cop out on my part. Like, I’m already looking for reasons why things haven’t been going my way, thus not my fault.

    I keep saying things haven’t been going my way, because I still take myself out of the game. I’m continuing to have the 2am self-doubt moments. Last night’s was pretty bad, as I started telling myself that I just don’t have the passion to do this. That all my friends who are doing well in their careers are passionate about what they do, and are willing to work hard, and that is way they are successful. While me… I’m too lazy and insecure to even get started, and if I did get started, it would suck, and I would fail.

    It took me a bit to calm myself down. Just to breath, and remind myself that I’m okay. Everything is okay. Everything will be okay. I don’t know how, but it will be. Gotta have faith.

    One of the things I reminded myself of was what I learned in therapy long ago; You can only solve one problem at a time. Instead of trying to solve the biggest one, maybe I should try a small one – a problem that I can have control over. THEN, I should try to solve a problem that’s a little bigger. And so on, and so on until maybe that big problem is a little more manageable.

    One problem at a time.

  • First Day of Winter

    I couldn’t sleep last night, or I guess, more accurately, this morning. It was about 4:30am when I looked at my phone to see what time it was, and I wanted to try to get back to sleep. I tried. I rolled over to a different position, but it didn’t help. It was too hot in bed, I couldn’t get comfortable, and my beard was very itchy. By 5:30, I had to admit that I was awake and that I wouldn’t get back to sleep. I didn’t want to wake anyone, so I went to the office, and sat down with my journal.

    I could hear classical music coming from my daughter’s room, as she listens to that now, to help her fall asleep. The music plays all night, and there is something very innocent and endearing about it. That the kid is starting her own music education.

    I took out the journal and just started writing about the day; what I need to do, and hopefully, what I can accomplish. I also started writing about the next project that I want to work on, and how to use short stories, and story sketches together to tell a complete narrative of family dealing with mental issues.

    And I continue to write about writing. Writing about something that I would like to write about. How will I write about it? What style will I use? Will I try to craft 10 stories that each have an individual style to them? Is that possible?

    Then it dawns on me as the dawn is dawning; that this is the first day of Winter, and the shortest day with the longest night. It begins again, the growing of the day, the receding of the darkness. All things must pass, and the daylight is good at arriving at the right time, right?

    Sometimes things happen at the right time for the right reason.

  • The Act of Journaling

    I read an article in this week’s New Yorker, entitled “The Paper Tomb,” about the journals of Claude Fredericks. Who, you ask? In fact, the article starts off the same way. Unless you went to Bennington College, or are a deep dive fan of the novel, “The Secret History,” odds are you are like me, and this would be the first time his name has shown up in your life. What makes Claude Fredericks interesting, at least in this article, is that he spent an entire lifetime journaling, and expected it to be published. Also, Fredricks was an early proponent, autofiction, though in his mind, he saw the journal as the vessel of this media, and not the novel.

    I read the article last night, and I have been thinking about it since. I do like the ambition of a longhaul documentation of one’s life, in the sense that it is a fascinating art project. It’s like Andy Warhol’s “Sleep,” five and a half hours of a guy sleeping. Sure, it’s an anti-film, but it also plays on the idea of documentation to the point where it is actually just witnessing life. Can you truly document an entire life? We all know the answer is no. You cannot witness someone else’s entire life, nor can you get every detail of life down on paper.

    But what is it then? I journal, and I know a great number of other people who journal as well. Hell, Gary Shandling was a prolific with his journals. Are we doing this for ourselves, or do we all intend to have someone read them one day? Isn’t this just a fancy literary way of talking to ourselves?

    I have completed 38 journals that are anywhere from 200 to 300 pages long each. I started when I was 18 and continue to this day. They are in a box in the office, and most days I don’t think about them. Then I complete a journal, and go to throw it into that box, and that’s when I ask myself, who is this really for?

  • Reading and Writing in the Woods

    I follow Yaddo and MacDowell on Instagram. They are both artist residency programs (Check them out here: Yaddo, and MacDowell) and, for me, there is something very aspirational about following them. I think I would like to have a two-week residency with either one. Hell, I would take two days if it was offered to me.

    Have I applied to them? No, but maybe one day.

    I’m not sure if the reason I want to be out there is to be alone in the woods to work in solitude, or it might be that I would like to believe that I would rub elbows with David Sedaris, maybe help him make a communal meal for the colony. (I would have to fight the urge to tell David that I still give Holidays on Ice as a Christmas gift to people.) It’s as if it would be a working, smart person vacation.

    I think I might have told this story before, if so, then just act like its new…

    The last three major job interviews I have had in the past two years, all three have posed the same “personality” question to me; “If you could do anything, what would you do?” We all know the gimmick of this question, and the expected answer is that you are supposed to say, this job that I’m interviewing for. I preferred to answer the question honestly, but in a non-offensive way, by saying, “I would be in a cabin in the woods, reading and writing all day.” (Out of those three interviews, I only landed the job once.) As time has gone on, I see that my answer was more honest than I wanted to be. If I keep saying it, then there is some truth there, maybe on an id level.

    So, I guess I’m setting up a second goal here. The first being earn enough money from writing to buy a computer for my family. The second is to be in the woods reading and writing all day. If Yaddo and MacDowell want to help out with that, it would be greatly appreciated.

  • Process: Talking About a Story

    I fully admit that I am a superstitious/neurotic writer, and it’s annoying to everybody, especially me. I follow silly rules that have no logical basis with the belief that somehow adhering to these guidelines will guarantee success.

    Such as; I can’t reuse a character’s first name, I can’t work on fiction until I journal first, and the big one, don’t talk about details of a story until it’s finished, because if I were, then the story will never get finished. The last rule has been tricky when it comes to this blog, which leaves some of my posts so vague that they are incomprehensible.

    Last night, I broke the no talking rule with my wife. (Yes, I don’t even tell my wife about my work until it’s done.) And it needed to happen.

    The context here is that I have been working, on and off, for about a year, on a story based upon a person I used to work with, and who my wife also knows. I have told no one about this story, obviously, and this co-worker came up in conversation last night. As in, “Whatever happened to what’s their name?” We talked about the possible fate of this person, and why they were such a challenge to work with.

    And that’s when I was like, I should share this idea, and why I am curious to attempt to write a story about them. Also, I wanted feedback if it was a good idea.

    The jury is still out, as the wife pointed out everything that I knew was problematic about the story… so it needs still more work if it is ever to see the light of day.

    The bigger point here is that I still have several self imposed barriers that I need to break through. The “talking” rule is bullshit as what really does is try to protect me from any criticism. If I never share, then I can never be wrong.

    I still got a long way to go, but working on it.