Friday, May 5, 2017

"Vacuuming Stephen King (with eyeballs)" -- a REPRINT of my First Ever Blog Post of NINE Years, TWO Days Ago!!! (I FORGOT to CELEBRATE our ANNIVERSARY!!!)


Deeply into reading the actual “on writing” part of Stephen King’s On Writing, and sucking the text right off the pages. Only a light tracery--gray pictographs--remains on the pages. This book, unlike his fiction (not to my taste), is as true and insightful as everyone has claimed--about life as much as writing.

First, his ideas--character-driven stories, limited descriptions, honesty, honesty! and so much more--resonate with what I at least attempted to achieve in my first book (within the nonfiction context). Second, he is pulling me out of what I have come to see as my ongoing road-blocking dilemma: being stuck plotting the new book to a fixed ending. That is to say, that I have a philosophy I have been trying to preach and prove. But that's not life—and it is certainly not my life when I’m honest. Honesty! 

Witness my just completed, weeklong, depression/anxiety fit that hit hardest when I attempted to write. Driven instead to wrink-wrink obsessing on Roomaticus Maximus instead of working on my manuscript.

Truth is, I must write my story of dealing with bipolar disorder like the suspense novel life actually is--and I must trust. Trust the ending to reveal itself, whether it is the ending I think I want and will reach, or not. After all, embedded in this disorder is the tease of never really knowing what is real and what is not. I don’t mean hallucination, but that subtle thing we perceive in the world and must always be interpreting in order to navigate the waters.

I end here with a bit more of King and his devil-may-care attitude and refusal to apologize for it or himself. Well, maybe he does occasionally apologize, but really, he’s like that Key West waitress of my long-ago-days who would pout, look you in the eye, and exclaim, “Read these lips!” as she tapped the toe of her little red fuck-me pump. 

Two descriptions King quotes from other people’s writing— “Darker than a carload of assholes.” (George Higgins), and (Raymond Chandler) “I lit a cigarette that tasted like a plumber’s handkerchief.”

Been there; done that.


If someone tells you, "You can't" they really mean, "I can't." 

- Sean Stephenson

“The nakedness of woman is the work of God.”
― William Blake, Proverbs of Hell

Filthy Dirty!!!

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