Writing Diary 002

20 JULY

No writing this morning.

Little sleep last night—the back pain was too much. It almost made me cry. Was able to schedule a morning doctor’s appointment with someone covering for my usual doctor (on vacation). I liked this new doctor; cheery without being condescending; clearly intelligent and, more importantly, competent. It’s the most important trait in a doctor: “I will tell you what is going to happen next.” Scheduled an MRI (late August, yikes) and ordered new drugs for the pain. I’m writing these words on the first dosage of these said drugs: I feel like a million bucks. Still a little tense. But my sour smile is gone.

PT came by later. She suggested I strained one of my back muscles while increasing the load of my exercises. Felt better about her being so calm about the strain: probably part of the job. Now I have my new marching orders for the week.

Relistened to the Charli XCX Wuthering Heights album. I liked it on first listen and still like it. What a boring year in music—is this really my favorite album of the year so far? I’m jealous of all the fanfare that the film industry, despite its deep struggles, is still able to generate around the joys and wonders of seeing a movie in theaters. Can the music world have its own Obsession + Backrooms moment? Probably not. The value of a song has been next to nothing for too many consistent years. All the musicians now want to be actors; I don’t blame them.

Made a rare twitter appearance to see if anyone was yelling about my last newsletter. I no longer recognize most people I follow. A lot of retweeting of bots with intentionally outlandish takes—”we” really are that gullible to ragebait. (e.g., all the noise from The Odyssey.) Makes me sad. I never liked Twitter but it once gave me a sense of my wider world—I could actually learn a thing or two about what was making my friends and colleagues tick. Now I’m just reminded of the things I’m already trying to avoid. A shame. I now actively distrust folks with a lot of twitter followers.

I took Instagram off my phone a few days ago. I still feel great about it. The only thing I miss is sharing memes and funny videos with friends and a few group chats. My way of letting people know that I’m thinking of them.

In my back pain, during lunch, while waiting for my new medicine to clear at the CVS, I walked over to Barnes & Noble to find some new books. No luck. I could use a meaty novel—something non-American. For now, rereading that collection of Kafka short stories … some of his best work. I’m more naturally a Vonnegut or DFW copycat, but I wish my writing brain had a weirder default, like Kafka or [Cormac] McCarthy.

Treated myself to Bob’s—the world’s greatest donuts. Such a bummer day; it lifted my mood immediately.

21 JULY

OK writing this morning. I think I’m farther away from the finish line than I realize (a shame), but the work feels good. The potential for their greatness feels higher. They’re getting stickier; a promising sign. Thankful the meds are working.

Catch-up call with Emily.

Writers group night; lots of talk of archangels (how many are there?) and Dark Souls lore (the right amount of obtuse for its medium; the task to translate it to a different medium could lead to disaster in the wrong hands, just look at The Last of US TV show).

Got a parking ticket (Silver Lake). A beautiful LA night. One of those drives back in which all the cars on the freeways look like peaceful fireflies.

22 JULY

Strange writing day. More “I can justify this addition?” than “I can cut this?” And I’ve been in such a cutting mood these past few weeks. Also turning one of my characters to be especially nasty, maybe too nasty? Distractingly nasty? Like a high schooler’s impression of edgy. I want to keep it … maybe just switch out a word or two? I don’t have to like my characters to still find them worth exploring.

A hot day. I picked up some more [Denis] Johnson. It’s a collection I read many years ago from the library; I now wanted my own copy. He’s in my A- tier of writers who have had the most impact on me. I don’t love all his works (all his novels start strong and sputter out sooner or later), but he has 20-30 perfect paragraphs. I’d be lucky to ever write just one.

Who’s in my A tier? On top of my head:

• Vonnegut

• Miller

• Wallace (some days he’s an A-)

• Ebert

• Ross

• Judt

• Joyce

• Woolf

• Saunders

• Flannagan (depending on the day)

• Baldwin

Mostly dudes, sadly. The one woman was someone who wrote like Joyce, sometimes better. I can at least say that I owe a lot of my writing education to Rowling (complicated feelings now; I learned a lot from her use of dialogue) and Nancy Farmer (The House of the Scorpion, the first “new” book I ever fell in love with; it would make for an excellent Hulu series that I probably wouldn’t watch; someone smart should get those rights). Saying I like Morrison is like saying water is wet; I’d be weird and boring if I said otherwise. I really want to like Butler more than I actually do; great ideas and I don’t love her actual writing. I used to be a louder Didion fan and now find her a bit embarrassing—except for The Year of Magical Thinking, what once felt like insight now feels condescending. I wish Babitz was a 3% better writer, so I pull a “but actually” and take her side.

23 JULY

Just OK writing today. I cut a lot and now have to look at what else to cut … because whatever stays, I need to make perfect. Perfect to me, at least. I’ve burned the fat; now I need to build the muscle.

Long phone calls with some folks throughout the day.

At night, did some busy work while watching The Big Lebowski, a movie I love much more after moving to LA (his Ralph’s card). A reminder that getting story and characters right is more important than getting plot right.

My back is feeling better … cautious optimism.

24 JULY

Went back to some older stories, to switch up my focus. I’m surprised by how much stronger they feel after the most recent rewrites. “Am I giving someone a cat?” is one of the better writing rules I’ve started to follow.

Listened to the new Charli album. Lou Reed was farting out albums like this in the ‘80s/’90s. I guess this would sound interesting to someone who has never been paid to listen to subpar Reed.

Busy at work. Call with Emily. Ate too much but mostly healthy. Sat for way too long. Started rewatching Kill Bill but got bored (too much talking; get to the action, I kept thinking). Forced myself to take a night walk; caught up on some podcasts. Happy start to the weekend.

25 JULY

No entry.

26 JULY

Day off from writing.

Sticker shock from a medical bill that may or may not be incorrect. Another thing to work out in this coming week. Busy, busy, busy.

Thinking more about The Odyssey … I think it’s a lot better than my initial reaction. It’s sticky; one of my highest compliments. Looking forward to seeing it again next week.

Had some of the most delicious bread I’ve ever had in my life for breakfast. Freshly baked bread—what a dream.

Tried to start a playlist to get excited for cleaning the bathroom … plural John Mayer songs?

Emily and I saw a movie to beat the heat—we walked a few miles to and from breakfast, so felt no guilt in sitting around for a few hours. I’m glad she’s back. We saw the new Minions movie. We joked that we would be the only adults without kids in the theaters; turns out half the theater was just like us.

Tonight, even with the AC, my room still feels hot. I can hear my neighbor blasting relaxing chamber music.

The dog days, etc.

-b