gene morgan & other things
I am going to blog about Gene Morgan. Gene blogged about Ellen and I and Eeeee Eee Eeee. Gene's lung collapsed. I know three people whose lungs have collapsed. Gene, Nick, me. Gene started bear parade one year ago.
Gene has never asked me to change my writing. I don't think I have asked Gene what he thinks about my writing. For a while I thought that Gene did not like my writing that much, but then gradually he started to say that he liked my writing. I think one time I took the bear poem out of my book and Gene seemed sad and I put the bear poem back and Gene seemed happy. I'm not completely sure if it really happened like that.
I am going to blog about some other things now. I want to write more books. I want to write different books. I think my next novel is different. I also would like to edit a short-story anthology. I want to do that so I can have a book that has all the things I want to read inside of it. I want these stories to be in my short-story anthology.
Thank you for reading my blog post.
Gene has never asked me to change my writing. I don't think I have asked Gene what he thinks about my writing. For a while I thought that Gene did not like my writing that much, but then gradually he started to say that he liked my writing. I think one time I took the bear poem out of my book and Gene seemed sad and I put the bear poem back and Gene seemed happy. I'm not completely sure if it really happened like that.
I am going to blog about some other things now. I want to write more books. I want to write different books. I think my next novel is different. I also would like to edit a short-story anthology. I want to do that so I can have a book that has all the things I want to read inside of it. I want these stories to be in my short-story anthology.
Graveyard Day
by Bobbie Ann Mason
Raider Nation
by Todd Hasak-Lowy
1993-94
by Curtis Sittenfeld
Driver
by Frederick Barthelme
La Pena
by Deb Olin Unferth
The Wolf At The Door
by Rebecca Curtis
Shifting
by Ann Beattie
Bienvenido el Duende
by Trinie Dalton
With Hitler in New York
by Richard Grayson
You're Ugly, Too & Escape from the Invasion of the Love Killers
by Lorrie Moore
Five Signs of Disturbance
by Lydia Davis
ChinaI liked making that list. I'm not sure. I think I would add more Joy Williams stories. I thought about it right now and there are not any short stories that are exactly what I want to read. I think maybe Curtis Sittenfeld's story might be close to what I exactly want to read, but I only want to read that kind of story sometimes, and less now than maybe two years ago. Todd Hasak-Lowy's story is a little like what I exactly want to read but I would change some things about it if I were writing it, but I'm not sure how I would change them. Joy Williams is close to exactly what I want to read but some things in her stories are things that are not exactly what I want to read. I want to write exactly what I want to read. It seems like that should be easy and not take any work except for the time it takes to type it, but I think it takes longer than that because what I want is something that will also surprise me because it is smarter than me. If I read something and it is exactly what I say I want to read I don't think it would actually be exactly what I want to read. I think I have written some things that are exactly what I want to read. But things become less powerful each time I read them.
by Charles Johnson
Train & Honored Guest & Charity
by Joy Williams
Thank you for reading my blog post.
13 Comments:
I think about this too. I know exactly when something is exactly what I want to read as I am reading it, but sometimes recognizing that lessens the 'exactly right.' I have a hard time with 'favorite authors' because the way I read has been tampered with by school. The way I read is like a face that has plastic wrap pulled very tightly over it, all of my instincts have been compressed and a bit sedated so that I often have to ask, 'do I like this?' I never used to have to do that, I don't know when it started. So now the problem is that I can like different things for different reasons at different times, and I can 'appreciate' things without liking them viscerally. It is a kind of fear and burden, it feels like reading while being watched by someone. The intimate space is often gone. This is not true for every single thing I read, maybe, but it's true as a general statement. I think it can be very hard to read for oneself and to write for oneself, at least it has been hard for me, in the sense of filtering out desires that are based on self-aggrandizement or 'wanting to appear' (smart, sincere, deserving of pity or praise, 'an expert,' etc.). I have written a few things, a few sentences, that I have not gotten tired of reading, or that don't make me cringe for one reason or another. And I'd say that it's probably good not to find exactly what you want in the stuff that you read, maybe it gives you more incentive to write what's lacking. These have been my preliminary thoughts about Tao's post, maybe I will write more later.
The word verification for that comment was 'weiuku,' which is a small Hawaiian child who has eaten too many coconuts and feels guilt.
i think i almost always feel that way, when i begin to write a story or poem or novel or something, about 'wanting to appear,' but usually am able to 'liberate' myself from that and write what i would like to read or what one other person would like to read
i think what helps 'liberate' me is to think of all the books i have read that i did not enjoy, and all the people i've met who i wanted to get away from, and it is almost everyone, and every book, which motivates me to block out those things and focus on writing what i want to read or what one other person would like to read
you should publish that anthology on jobless bitch.
i will
i want to hold it in bed and on trains and other places also though in a book
this is a good list.
i have never been good at finding exactly what i wanted to read and i find it even more difficult to write exactly what i want to write. it is often clear in my head and very blurry on the page b/c in my head it is like a color and a rose bush and a sound all at once without ever being visual but more like a weight.
sometimes i get it though. maybe 20% of the time. i like it when that happens.
if i was always able to find exactly what i wanted to read and write exactly what i wanted to write i would probably quit altogether and sit on the sofa and eat cheetoes and watch thundercats or transformers.
When did I reduce Lydia Davis to temping?
Go see a Movie.
Stephen Dixon
how is that below it says "You're currently postings as Justin," even though I have yet to log on and this is the library computer. the only connection is that i have logged into my wordpress account? this is a little creepy.
besides that, neither of my blogger accounts are supposed to say "justin". "justin" is old. my new accounts both say either "j.d." or "father billy."
oh, i know. it's because i just opened a gmail account.
father billy.
blogger is fucked now. i think i have three different usernames for commenting here.
that's why i switched to wordpress, i think, although wordpress is basically fucked as well. for example, you have to pay money to manually edit it.
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