11:03AM Morning spent in the writing lab, after breakfast of blueberry pancakes. Half a tankard of coffee in the belly. Sort of editing, in process lead to definition and etymology lesson of the word “imbued” which means to inspire or permeate with a feeling or quality, from the Latin “bibere” to drink, like imbibe. Isn’t it interesting? You are like a drink, something that can be taken in by other people, ingested. You can infect them with your effect. You are hops, hopefully not sour grapes. I like to drink others. What is my effect?
11:35AM Editing. Focus on eliminating filler words, like now, some, that, adverbs. Generally, wordiness is the problem. Wordiness represents the loading screens of the imagination, the human hand-prints of stroke. That’s what editing is, distilling, removing imperfections, focusing in on desired results. Effects.
1:09PM Post lunch, killer naked noodles, hunk of meatloaf, radishes and greens. Reading Ninja book, thematically consistent. Novella and short story I am working on involve ninjas. Interesting to learn that the true essence of the ninja is the spook, the agent. What does it mean I identify with that? Can you be an agent for the Good? Do the ends ever justify the means? Should we make any sort of distinction in the first place?
Listening to this lecture on the tarot, specifically Card 15 The Devil. I study tarot, but don’t really do readings/divinations. I was scared off after my first round of readings, by how accurate the cards were. Scared by either possibility, that the tarots cards were somehow magically focused and connected with the person I was doing the reading of, or I was such a good interpreter (bullshitter) that I could make it seem that way. I know it’s not me though. It’s something I’ve been imbued with by the world, by the subconscious, by all the stories. Maybe a result of the stars, my Virgoan nature. Not sure if you buy into anything like that.
Got the new draft of my novella Kill the Television up and running. Going to buckle in here and start the rewriting/editing process on that. Plan to sort of jump back and forth between these stories until they solidify and buff out. Goal was to have both these done by end of vacation, Aug 1. Short story, Arms in Ankeny feels like it is close, but the resistance grows in equal proportions. Tragedies of real life loom, questions of existential meaning and distinction play on a background loop in my mind. I try to focus in on work, that’s what the man in the pilgrim hat instructs us to do, right? 1:25PM