I usually work on my novel in this position: sitting on the train on the way to work or from work, notebook on my lap.
Despite the fact that I’m surrounded by people, it’s a really lonely way to work, as writing usually is. The ideas come hard and the words come harder. In half an hour, I can do around 600 words, which is nothing in the scope of 90,000.
Hello. Are you enjoying your Friday? I’m not.
- WhatIhate most about Bloomsday is howoverrated the moocow and the tucow and the Irish pub and then he went to some other Irish pub and drankhissorrows away Ulysses is.
- Stasha gives me some strategic advice.
- “My homeboy is interred at a cemetery with a swan lake where we used to take our girls at night because it was a park with a lake and it was just over the line and in the county. “The County” then meant safety and comfort to us, in the way that the neighborhood where the HBO show “The Wire” was filmed did not.” (It’s depressing but then it’s not. )
- Old-timey food.
- On how hard it is to crack it online.
- Why do I even bother?
- Haha! Europe a different way.
- Hipster Shabbat.
- U.S. versus not U.S.
- “Just about everything in the store screams, “ALL WE HAVE IN THIS STATE IS MOOSE & LOBSTER & TOTAL WILDERNESS!”
- Who wants to sponsor my trip to mermaid camp?