Tell me, anyone -- was there ever really a need for a book entitled The Joy of Sex? But sex sells, and so does joy, I suppose.
Random thoughts and tangents today.
Some of these are Vicodin-induced.
I have a root canal scheduled for tomorrow, Friday, April 4. Why doesn't anybody write a book called The Joy of Root Canals? There is, after all, "joy" in the title. And joy sells. (I suppose.)
For those curious, it's tooth #30. So, 30 should be my lucky number.
Nice to have the Vicodin. I hope there's enough left over for some stream-of-consciousness writing. Eleanor has a string of words she wants to speak, and fast as my thoughts are, her thoughts inside my head are zipping by even faster.
Are you wondering when this novel will be finished? Me too.
I hope you like Eleanor. There are selected excerpts all over this This Side of Paradise. None of them give the full picture of Eleanor, but people tend to love her, or not get her at all. I don't mind that. I'd rather the extremes than indifference.
Extremes are good.
The extremities are necessary.
Martin Amis (allegedly) left his wife, switched agents, got a huge advance -- to get his dental work done. This from the British tabloids. How much of the personal life is true, I'm not sure. Well, we know he left his wife and agent and got a huge advance for that next novel. Did the press ever report exactly what dental work he had done? (I like Martin Amis' early work best. An aside.)
I'm getting no huge advance to have my root canal done, which means I don't have to switch agents or leave my wife.
Have you noticed in Erik Larson's book The Devil in the White City, many of the historical characters are suffering throughout from tooth problems? I wonder if any of them were tempted by huge advances on future books or projects to leave their wives.
There is joy in Vicodin. Did I say that already?
Counting the Vicodin pills I have left.
Come to think of it, I've already lost count.
"It's so sweet. I feel like my teeth are rotting when I listen to the radio. "
"One writes out of one thing only -- one's own experience. Everything depends on how relentlessly one forces from the experience the last drop, sweet or bitter, it can possibly give."
-- James Baldwin
To Reach The Green Light At The End Of The Pier
FOR AS LONG AS IT TAKES: "We are saving ourselves through the words," says Eleanor, the leading lady of a novel-in-progress. This exploration into the creative process -- which includes plenty of distractions/tangents /thoughts & rants by Eleanor, her Biographer, and selected guest artists -- will continue until Eleanor is certain her story is "right." (But we dare not jump ahead of ourselves.)
There will be the occasional typo (as Eleanor points out), and much of this is intended to be "original draft" -- what comes out of our mouths (heads) first, and then set down in that order. Not all of it will be included in the novel, but all of it is happening in real time.
ELEANOR says: "Please turn the page. Keep reading."
For more of Eleanor and her Biographer -- as well as the work of our many guest artists -- check out the older postings. "Everything is part of the process, and the process is the journey," Eleanor says.