A Good Weekend

I had a fairly good weekend with regards to my writing and its only Saturday lunchtime when I am writing this. I spent most of the last week babysitting Aidan, my son, since he is off from school for two weeks, the Easter Holidays.

Last night I started work with one of only two stories that may be considered humorous within Fictions and even then it’s an admittedly wry and cynical humour. I know, via feedback from some of my newspaper articles, that I am indeed capable but that that affirmation is necessary says something. And I wonder if I am capable of humour without viciousness or cynicism. The point however there is indeed a place for humour within commentary in literature, Heller’s Catch 22 coming to mind as the finest example I’ve read so far.

Much of my writing last night, perhaps all of it, was done over some rum and cokes at a friend’s bar on South Road. “All of it” constitutes a roughly fifty-word paragraph intended to be the beginning of the story (I rarely start writing at the beginning of any story) but it represented a strong foundation for the tale, “True Believer”, particularly regarding my development of the main character. Two years ago I quit all fulltime employment and I’ve been through financial crisis after crisis since, but at times like this I feel justified. I am entering a period of sublime flow, as grandiose and hence bullshit-ish as that sounds, where the right mode of formulation – a state that is almost transcendental – necessary for my work establishes itself.

My research is coming along fairly well although I have to revisit my old haunting ground and haven the National Library. I did so for about half hour about two weeks ago for a private project I am working on as well as for some research for Fictions and it was a primarily wonderful experience. There was one disappointment – the copy of Neruda’s Residencia en la tierra which included a good translation of “Tango del viudo” has disappeared, both from the borrowing section downstairs as well as the reference section upstairs. Some good news, I found two copies of Ariadne & Other Stories in the borrowing section – both borrowed about five times each, as recently as a month ago. I felt a distinct, quite indescribable sense of elation. If ever I felt a justification for working on my new book it was right then.