Monday

Even though the novel is down and being rewritten off-line, still must remember to do my exercises here or my writing will get flabby and stale. Without work, without the lifting, it won’t work. Couldn’t expect it to. Am excited to have the time during Labor Day weekend to do nothing by write what I choose to. Will be nice to get back with those characters again. Out in Brooklyn for a bit this Sunday and left all phones at home – remarkable what that can do for ones own sanity. Should remember to do that once in awhile – especially on a Sunday afternoon.

Thinking much about F. Scott Fitzgerald these days and about all of the people I’ve yet to read as I should have read. I hope their ghosts aren’t all that mad at me for the road I’ve decided to take – but I can’t be concerned about such things any more. Just have to move on forward with my world and the ones I’m looking to create. It will work out I am sure, whatever that may mean. These early mornings are the best times of the day – so clear and such a perfect cup of coffee. I can feel the cold weather about to drop, even though the temperatures are rolling in the 90s. What’s really happening doesn’t mean much for me. It’s all about the horizon. Happens when you’re growing up near water. New York is just a bunch of arteries trying not to collapse on each other. How fantastic is that. Just the simple fact of that.

So happy with my main character now and am hoping that since she’s a woman, the harshness of the story will have a softer let in to the real world. I know it will – I just can’t let the regular voices take away anything from her. I mean that I have to protect her from the real world until she’s ready. Can’t talk about her too much – though I still need a home town for her and maybe something that happened in her childhood that has her searching for a connection and trying to put back the pieces together – though if it didn’t happen to me, how am I going to be able to make it real. We shall see. We shall see. There is much of that these days. Feels good to stretch. My mind is right when I do this. This is the voice that’s true. The highest voice. As I descend more into the day, the one that requires the steady flow of cash, a look towards a house, perhaps children, the voices change and necessity dominates over inside truths.

I hope this true voice wins the day. It shoud.

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