Nothing says insincerity is endemic in today's world more than the existence of an 8-week course on offer titled “Radical Honesty”.
Inboxes 15, RSS 195.
journal
Back in Houston, slow and quiet, reeling from my time in New York which was marked by a great deal of socializing and subway rides. The latter allowed for ample reading, namely two books by Albert Camus I picked up from Book Thug Nation in Brooklyn (one of my favorite bookshops in existence), easily devoured over the course of my 10-day stay.
And somehow, in the cauldron of conversations, reading, observation, book-browsing, and general contemplation, an idea for a novel came to me.
This, of course, is a terrible thing. I'm still on the last chapter of THE SOLAR GRID, after which I should probably add a few short stories to TIMES NEW HUMAN. After which, and only after which, I should contemplate pursuing the prospect of writing a novel (or any other potentially draining project for that matter). One way of knowing whether or not you're passionate enough about a project anyway is putting it aside and revisiting your notes on it down the line, to see if you feel just as excited about it as when the idea first struck.
It is good to know though that I, sooner or later, will have a way to put my notes on writing a novel in one month to the test and see if they actually work.
Second attempt to catch flight out of New York is fail. Can't help but feel the universe is insisting on extending my stay for some elusive higher purpose I can't quite put my finger on.
Newsletter drafted between airports and friends' crashpads. Scheduled to go out later tonight. It's a good one, I think.
Sold out of both issues of THE CURSE OF I from my end. Last remaining copies can still be procured however from Basket Books in Houston and Desert Island in Brooklyn.
Rain came down long and hard last night and I am getting notifications from the airline that severe weather conditions may impact my flight out of New York. Inclined to push it back a couple days to avoid any potential airport inconveniences and general fuckery.
He glances up and grabs a pigeon, crops the shot, and squirts it at his weblog to show he's arrived.
Because I'm a hopeless workaholic, I brought my TSG notebooks with me on what was supposed to be my New York getaway to try and solve story-compression issues relating to the final chapter. Just so I can slide right into drawing the thing upon my return to the studio.
It is warm in New York but it ain't anywhere near as hot as Houston. 25C this evening, the white noise of rain outside intercut by the slightly higher pitched tip-tapping on fire-escape metal. Good writing weather. Sometimes all you need is a little change of scenery.
Passage at the very top is from Charles Stross' ACCELERANDO btw.
Week's worth of Mythomatic orders fulfilled, quite a few international ones.
Inboxes at 152, RSS 147. 34C today, “feels like 43”.
“Daddeee, what's that sound you made?”
Me? (Feeling exposed) Oh, haha, nothing, habibi, just talking to myself.
“That was a funny sound you made, daddy,” he says laughing, which makes me laugh too, deliriously.
“Are you really tired, daddy?”
Hahaha, yes I am, son, you could say that, yes.
It's not that bad. Surviving on 3-hours sleep each night for most of this past week has paid off; Latest TSG is up, newsletter drafted and sent (edition #209: Power of the Package), kickstarter updated, and roundtrip flight to New York booked. And today, I finally managed to step away from work and take the kid out to the coffee shop around the corner for a much-needed treat (for both of us!). We also got to lay on the floor and do some coloring together, and also put together a little chia-planting kit. All in all, a delightful day.