31JUL2011 – Spent this weekend largely bivouacked on the Couchwork Orange with all necessary armaments close at hand; a French press of hot coffee (turn your nasal cavities up at Chock Full O’ Nuts if you wish, but it does the job in a pinch and the local variety allows one to vibrate through walls at will), a steady supply of bottled water, headphones, a modest 23GB of music, a pad of graph paper and assorted cables. August is gonna be a motherfucker, so I’m catching up on my writing now.
Novel progress is going well thanks to Scrivener; twenty-two chapters drafted to date. Organizing a wide cast of characters and a time-traveling uroboros of a plotline was proving too difficult using Word alone, and there’s nothing quite like having Stephen Hawking read your own words back to you.
For those of you not already in the know, I’m moving once again. Staying in Brooklyn — just heading south towards Prospect Park. End result: cheaper digs, a faster commute to work and a much-needed boost in my creativity. The talented Ms. Fuller, my roommate-to-be, and I will learn tomorrow if we got the place; the ground floor apartment of a spacious two-story townhouse built in 1901. I’ve been spending too much time and energy getting to and from work as well as wanting out of my too-modern remodeled apartment building for some time now. Ms. Fuller, who deserves maximum credit for not only finding said apartment, but managing the spreadsheet as well as viewing and documenting each of the prospective apartments while I was at work, required more breathing room and a change of environment overall.
So stay tuned, clap your hands, cross your fingers or at the very least place a shiny coin on the altar of St Francis de Sales.
I leave you with this:
(I’m going to write and write and write until I die; I kinda don’t even care if I’m any good at it. What matters most is how I feel when I’m writing.)