Oh, writing another book. Nothing too unusual.
*record scratch*
Yes, you read that right. I am writing/compiling another book to sell on Amazon. There's more writing involved than compiling this time. Though, admittedly, this won't be another 500-pager. More like fifty-to-sixty pages or so, like a chapbook. It's a book of my poetry. Not all of my poetry, obviously, and not even all of my best poetry at the moment -- some of that's still out for submissions right now, and may be accepted at some point soon to a literary journal. If it gets rejected, well, I'll add it to the book, because goddammit it will be published someplace.
I will say that a good 80% or so of the book's contents will be poems that nobody's ever seen before, in workshop or otherwise. New stuff, but meticulously-revised-and-finished new stuff. Frankly, there's a ton of work that I've not shown in workshop simply because I don't want feedback on it; I want to finish it and publish/sell it. A large chunk of my poems never see the light of day in workshop; they're quietly finished, revised, and submitted to literary journals instead. I have five submissions out right now, with only two of them containing poems anyone has seen before.
Now, however, I'm shifting my focus to publishing my own stuff, and not worrying about rejections by literary journals as much. Yes, I will still be submitting a lot of my stuff to different places, of course, but I'll have a separate section of my work cordoned off for the book only.
As you may have guessed, just like my other book, this will be a fairly-long process. I'm not going to have this book ready in a few weeks, oh no. I'll probably be writing/compiling/editing this book for a while, possibly through the winter. Do I expect it to sell more copies than my first book? Probably not, at least not immediately. But I will say that it'll be much cheaper. And it will probably have a print version available faster than that book, as well. However, it is by no means a quick process. I expect to be working on it probably through Christmas.
Why did I start this tonight? Well, really, it was because I came up with a brilliant title for the book, something incredibly simple, but something oh-so-succinct that captures everything about my poetry and writing style that I couldn't help but use it. When I come up with a good title for something, whether it be a story, blog post, poem, or (in this case) a book, I must immediately start writing. It's a compulsion of mine; it's something I can't stop myself from doing. Some of my best poems have come to me in the middle of a class or while taking a shower/cleaning the house/doing something equally mundane.
No, I'm not telling you the title. Not until the book is done and ready to publish, at least.
In other news, I haven't driven the car any more and really don't want to, but apparently on the trip back home from Wichita on Thursday night, it didn't burn off any more coolant (or at least not a noticeable amount, anyhow), which is a plus. I have the feeling that I'm going to have to keep checking it every day or almost every day I drive it now, so that I can keep track of things and estimate just how much it's going through -- and possibly when/how. At least until I can get it worked on and/or fixed, anyhow. As I said, it's not like I can avoid driving it -- I must be able to get to school and back, my entire life and income depends on it. I now have two full gallon jugs of new coolant in the backseat in case it starts to run dry again. I just wish I knew what the fuck was wrong with it. I'm pretty sure that just the spark plugs needing replaced isn't going to make the thing burn coolant. I'm wondering if it's just a cracked hose or broken seal somewhere that only really opens when the engine is running/driving on the interstate, because that would explain a lot of things. Really, it could be anything little like that instead of a major problem like a head/intake manifold gasket (or worse, the cracked block), because, really, it's running and driving just fine as per the usual. That doesn't mean I'm not going to be careful or make any extra trips in it until I can figure it out, obviously.
Because of my worries about the car, I had to skip the birthday party of a friend this weekend -- which sucks, because ironically, it was one of the few events this semester that I was totally gung-ho to attend, and planning to (was going to pick up food/beer on the way there and everything) before all of this car shit started happening. Despite my dwindling amount of free time, this was something I'd planned for and had sectioned off time from my schedule for.
I will once again stress that there are few things I love more than that car; it's one of the few physical items that I own outright, and the one I depend on the most. Plus, and don't try to deny it, it's a sexy car.
I rest my case.
Anyway.
Instead, today (as well as the rest of my weekend) was filled with work; I did everything I possibly had to do but all of the reading I have to take care of for my two lit courses. That reading, of course, will be taken care of for the most part tomorrow and Monday. I mentioned at the beginning of the post that I'm reading Jane Austen's Persuasion, which is a really short book (less than 200 pages), but for my Middle Eastern/Asian lit course, I'm reading Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children.
Here's the problem. I've read Midnight's Children before, but it was many, many years ago. Like, ten or twelve years ago. I remember almost nothing about it, other than the fact that I had to read it for a class, and that it was an incredibly good book that centered around India's independence and kids with telepathy or something like that. Seriously, it's been that long, and I've read a ton of different books over that time. I'm sure it was a book for a lit course I took that was read long enough to memorize something important to mention in a paper, and then quickly emptied from the recycle bin of my brain. I may not have even finished it, who knows.
That's a problem, as the book is 500 pages or longer, and I need to read it again, remember things from it, and be able to discuss those things critically and intelligently in class -- as well as possibly in a paper and certainly on a midterm exam that is rapidly approaching in said class. I love that professor -- he's one of the most intelligent men I've met in my entire life, an excellent lecturer, and if he wrote a memoir I'd be the first to buy a copy and read it -- but the midterm and final exams he gives are totally mentally draining. Luckily, his exams are the only ones I have to take this semester, and they help prepare us for comps.
The fact that the book is 500 pages or longer doesn't bode well for the rest of my workload, either. We're covering the book during two weeks of class, but this week I'm collecting my students' first papers to grade as well, and that means I'll be hunkered down in my living room at the coffee table for several more days reading through them, marking them up, and calculating grades. This is in addition to the fact that we're only covering Persuasion in my Graduate Studies in Fiction course for one week -- Wednesday's class -- before quickly moving on to the next novel on the list, so I'll have that book to start/read as well. That's one of the reasons I need to whip through Persuasion so quickly.
Not to mention my own papers to begin researching and working on, some of which are coming due soon as well (October 20 is when the first big one is due). I'm also sticking around on campus on Tuesday a little later than usual so that I can work the EGSA book sale booth in the student union, and that's just one of many little things I do on a regular basis that I tack onto my normal schedule of stuff.
Yes, I know, by entering graduate school as well as deciding to take two lit courses this semester, I sort of brought this on myself. I'm in an English program, yes, and I should have expected this. Well, I did expect it, but I didn't expect it to be as work-intensive as it is. I seriously have to manage my time now in ways I never thought I'd have to. Hence why I barely get quality sleep but one or two nights a week anymore, and why there's a stack of DVDs I've bought over the course of the past six months or so that are sitting on the rack in the living room, untouched, despite the fact that I now have a shiny new widescreen HDTV to watch them on.
Said TV is usually used to watch football and not much else. Sad, but true. At least the colors, picture, and sound are pretty. Oh, how I long for the semester to be over so that I have some true free time. I don't even really care at this point if I get B's in all my classes, I just want to be able to sleep like a normal person, watch TV, and read things for pleasure, not because I'm forced to. I've really got nothing else going for me.
Despite that, I've still been in a great mood, even when buried in my work. Last night I ordered Pizza Hut, because fuck it, I'm sick of consuming nothing but The Five C's (which, if you remember my last post, are chicken, carrots, celery, coffee, and cigarettes). Pizza Hut may not be the greatest for my budget or my waistline, but I needed something different. Pepperoni-and-onions-different.
I later found out that the Pizza Hut was a mistake, as my bowels still have not yet forgiven me for my betrayal.
It's not just the Five C's, really. I also take vitamins, and always have ramen noodles in the house, as well as the basic materials to make sandwiches. I've not been eating a lot of snacky things, though, since my friend Brittany sent me a hot-air popcorn popper when I was still trying to shakily get back on my newly-single feet. Bags of corn for the popper are very cheap and last forever. However, the vast majority of my diet does consist of those Five C's.
I'm letting my beard and hair grow back out. Since I clipped both, it's been in the high 40s to mid-50s at night and in the mornings, when I'm outside the most (back and forth to school, remember?), and I'm prepping my face and head for the winter months, during which I will need both my hair and beard in order to stay warm. I was originally planning to trim the hair once a month or so, seeing as I have the clippers now and can do so, but I'm getting the impression that after the hell-like, 110-degree-plus days with no rain we had all summer, it's going to be just the opposite this fall and winter, and we'll end up getting smacked with -20 temperatures and three-foot snowstorms. Let's just say I'm follicly-preparing.
Besides, as I recently realized that there's not a soul I encounter on a daily basis that I'm even remotely romantically attracted to (at least none I'd ever have a chance in hell with, anyway), there's no reason to "keep up appearances," as they say. I don't mean that to sound as bad as it probably comes off, as it sounds like I mean fuck it, I'm gonna let myself go, but it means I can gradually let myself become The Wolfman again (or, if you prefer, my other nickname -- "English Jesus"). It means I really have no one to impress, and for the moment that feels really good.
Also, the kind of woman I'd be interested in is the kind who would appreciate the extra hair anyway.
Not that I've really been looking (or even really have time for it right now), but as previously implied, it's not like I have a whole lot of luck with the ladies anyhow. The only woman in my life who truly loves me unconditionally lives 1,000 miles away. I call her "Mom." Are there others, or will there be again? Who knows. I've completely settled into the single life at this point and have gotten used to it. It took me a little under two months. Like I said before, I have a network of friends who care and who keep me afloat, keep me on the straight and narrow. I may not see them a lot, but they're still there when I need them, and likewise, I'm there for them when they need me. Or, at least, I try to be as much as I can.
On that note, it's after 3AM. I need to go to bed. I have two more days of weekend, and therefore, two more days of work ahead of me.
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