Tennis and Waves

This weekend was actually pretty special. The only thing I did wrong (and I should start with that, since it's about writing); I didn't write yesterday. Totally blew it off. It was Sunday, I'd had a hard week, it was my wife's birthday, and there were waves. Given that combination of factors, I turned off the alarm and slept straight through until at least 6:30. 'Twas a delicious orgy of somnabulence.

Waves, oh, waves. Three good sessions with a friend of mine from California who just happened to be in town. Won't go into the surfing experiences too much (waves are waves) but I did kind of finally click w/Hemingways' fiction when I was out there. Since you turned me onto Cleaver, I've been constantly noodling in the back of my mind about what makes for good dramatic conflict, and that always leads me to try to identify it in books I've read. So I think I have a good theory on Hemingway now. Remind me to tell you if you're interested.

As for the strange ladies? I too am overcome by a kind of torpor when the rubber hits the road. I too do not have what it takes to "close the deal". Heck, I can hardly handle the woman I got, let alone another one. I'm a writer, dude. The low risk/high fantasy lifestyle is much more suitable for me. All those years I was out there getting hammered and forcing myself into crazy situations, that wasn't really working for me, you know? I look back and realize that when I was around 11 I had life pretty well figured out. Back then I'd lie in bed and read books. The Star Trek television adaptations by James Blish, the Mission Earth series by L. Ron, and anything by Asimov and Heinlein. At night I'd lie awake in bed and fantasize (in a pre-pubescent innocent way) about girls from other star systems.

Then came the brain-chemistry Armageddon of puberty, the need to impress the ladies, participation in various sports teams, the sauce and the drugs. Only after having my head clear for a few years have I realized that underneath all those dead layers of personality I'm still the 11 year-old daydreamer.