Photo-centric this time. The Dzanc edits are coming--I had to rewrite a bunch of the stories. My choosing. Became about more than edits and tweaks. I walked five miles today, listened to that shorter comp. of the Basement Tapes, wrote a short story which I need to tend to a bit more. Very strong story. Special. I'll take some more time with it when I have the time. But right now, all that matters is the Sam Cooke book and this Dzanc collection. And then Scrooge book. Those are the Big Three. When they are done I will feel such a weight off me.
1540 days, or 220 weeks without a drink today.
Autumn flowers I got today at Trader Joe's. First of the season. Hermey the Elf is still hanging in.
This is a bug who kept alighting on my book as I read, and on my fingers. I find it impossible just about to kill any living thing. When I was a kid I was that way, too, like with spiders in the house. My mom would be like, "get it," and I'd always have to gather it up and take it outside.
And here I am looking like I stepped out of Corman's The Masque of the Red Death or am auditioning to be one of those red guard dudes in Return of the Jedi. And yeah, I know I look tired. I am tired.
A publisher wants to see the essay collection, Glue God: Notes (and Tips) for Repairing a Broken Self. I don't want to send it until I've gone through it again hard. A goal is to get out of my forties with twenty books having come out. Tomorrow I may just see how long I can stay up working. On Tuesday on Downtown I'll talk about the original release of those Basement Tapes, a recent Cream box set of live 1968 recordings, an expanded edition of the Stones' much-malinged Goats Head Soup and the scorching Brussels Affair set, and the last great Byrds album. I asked Kimball if he'd write one of my letters of recommendation for the Guggenheim. He's seen a lot of my work and he has a pretty good idea what I'm about, what I'm trying to do, and I think he believes in my outcome. The outcome of my quest, as it were.
And just because it does a soul good--no matter the state of your soul--this is Elizabeth Cotten playing guitar and her twelve-year-old granddaughter Brenda Evans singing "Shake Shugaree."