Archive January 2010

Life for life’s sake 0

Dear Bradshaw,

Jeez, brother, I’ve been so busy lately I haven’t had time to cut my toenails. Can you believe that? They’re getting so long I could slice through a chunk of cheese with my big toe. Each morning after showering, while drying my feet, I look down at my toenails and remember that I need to cut them but, being in a hurry, resolve to do it the next day. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. Funny thing about tomorrow, Bradshaw, it’s never today. continue reading »

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Hello and hallelujah and yes 0

Dear Bradshaw,

I think I’ve finally discovered the secret to making my life magical — more magical than it already is anyway. Recently I’ve had a sort of awakening and let me tell you pal it feels fine, fantastic. The revelation is this: if I knew now I’d never publish anything significant, would I continue writing? I know we’ve discussed this before and my answer hasn’t changed = yes, absolutely, BUT (and here’s the “fine, fantastic” part) I wouldn’t waste my time and money sending stuff out, attending conferences, and dreaming of success. Instead, I’d just write at my leisure and be as light as air, as pure as water, and as simple as hello and hallelujah and yes. continue reading »

5 people like this post.

Middle age? Metabolism? 0

Dear Bradshaw,

I’m bloated. No, not fat… well, actually, okay, yes, fat, but it’s not really fat because when I weigh myself I weigh exactly what I’ve weighed for the past twenty years = 132 pounds (60 kilograms according to the scale in our bathroom). I guess it’s just air or whatever but still, my stomach feels, and looks, fat. continue reading »

5 people like this post.

To be a book 0

Dear Bradshaw,

Regarding your last email, always feel free to vent, pal, especially about writing. In fact, please do. We’re clearly on the same wavelength, as it’s exactly what has been on my mind for some time now.

Nearing 40, I’ve accepted the fact I’m not the next Hemingway, and though I could still hope to be a Henry Miller (in the sense that he published his first book at 43) that’s also unlikely. What about Frank McCourt (who won the Pulitzer Prize for his first book, published at the age of 66)? Again, unlikely. So what does this say about dreams? I used to believe it was enough to believe in them, but later learned that though they do come true, only for some people. Well, if I’m not one of those people, then what am I supposed to believe in? Santa Claus? Polarized sunglasses? Work for work’s sake? I know what you mean about not feeling fulfilled = I get up early, go to work, come home late, drink wine… Is that my purpose in life? continue reading »

5 people like this post.

Happy New Year, ho ho ho, and the rest 0

Dear Bradshaw,

As I send you these letters weekly, I have nothing new to write about, so I’ll just mention that I’m currently drinking wine (surprise, surprise) and that Jimi is stretched out between my knees. She does that in order to keep warm, I think, or to keep me warm, especially in winter. Francesca is in the kitchen cooking. What she’s cooking I don’t know, though I’m guaranteed to find out. It’s 9:33pm. Can you believe that? 9:33 and we haven’t had dinner yet. In fact, dinner will be (and usually is) served around 10pm. As we leave for work around 8am and return around 9pm, that’s the way it goes. Of course, I have breaks, and sometimes come home and read, rest, and write a little. Francesca gets home around 7:15pm but then goes to the gym for an hour and a half. So, however you figure it, we leave at 8am and return around 9pm, and that means dinner at 10. continue reading »

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