I wrote only 631 words yesterday. I am amazed I was able to write anything at all. But, here's the thing. When I set this 1,500-word a day obstacle course for myself I also devised a modest sort of cushion: The Word Bank. Each day I must write 1,500 words, all the way to January 31st. But I knew something would go wrong, eventually. So, I try to write as much more than 1,500 words/per day as possible. Those extra words go into the Word Bank. Savings against a rainy day. As of yesterday I'd accumulated 1,017 words in the Word Bank. That meant that, to stay on schedule, I had only to write 483 words yesterday. And I actually wrote 631. So, while this leaves the Word Bank momentarily depleted, it does mean I am not yet entirely screwed.
Meanwhile, Spooky learned this morning that Book and Tackle in Watch Hill, Rhode Island, has been demolished. Go back to my entries from our trip to Rhode Island in July and August and there's a photo of Book and Tackle somewhere. It figures. Whatever makes a place special, it cannot much longer endure. They also took out Watch Hill Pizza, which has relocated to Connecticut. I predict that next time we're in Watch Hill, a combo Starbuck's/Dunkin' Donuts will have been erected on the spot, there where the road curves towards to lighthouse, and above the combo there shall be condos. That's the holy commercial triptych of early 21st Century America — Starbuck's, Dunkin' Donuts, and condos (from the low 200s). Okay, well, maybe the Dunkin' Donuts part's not true outside Rhode Island (where one of the damn things occupies every other square foot), but you can substitute some other chain, if you wish. Book and Tackle will be mourned and missed.
My thanks to Sarah C., who writes re: Daughter of Hounds:
I just wanted to tell you that I have been reading your work for the past eight years of my life. I've read and reread my copies of The Dreaming because the stories you wrote are some of my favorite of all The Sandman-type books.
So tonight I went to Powell's bookstore here in Portland Oregon and bought a copy of your latest book. It's now four hours later, and one hundred and fifty-seven pages in. I am tired and excited about going to sleep because I want to wake up fresh faced so I am able to read the rest tomorrow. I hope that this book gets a wide audience of readers, and I will push this on all of my friends. Thanks for filling my head with amazing stories.
157 pp.? Let's see. That's the start of Chapter Four ("Woonsocket"). Anyway, thank you, Sarah. And to everyone else reading this journal, I do hope that if you have not already acquired, by whatever means, a copy of Daughter of Hounds, that you will do so today. There's a lot riding on this one.
Yesterday is all delirium, more or less. A murky blur of sleep deprivation. After the writing, I had a half-hour nap before dinner. Spooky got pizza from Fellini's (the one on Ponce, as the Candler Park location is being remodeled). We read the first 85 pages of Christopher Priest's The Prestige. Aside from the annoying present-day frame, it is quite good.
Right. Now, time to get back on the horse, as They are wont to say. A long day of words ahead of me...