graded over eighty papers. was close to becoming mind-slung and robot-mucked. no idea how i graded them. no idea why, except a check in the box on my screen telling me it's money. oh man, i'm tired of money. going to a lake this week. two days off school, four days in the woods. the woods make one more peaceful, noble, spiritual, and human. this is all a lie. i wonder where this lie slipped itself in from. i feel like james fenimore cooper had a lot to do with it. is it even reasonable to say james fenimore cooper anymore?
need to find a way to get into newness. some story is stuck inside me, but i don't know what it is or how to pull it out. distractions, teaching comp, having to grade, all these things don't allow for the mind to listen to other things. wanting to make something new, don't know what or how. i have the phrase "new york city? new york city!" stuck in my ears.
5 comments:
Is that a couch on your porch? Must be for Jack. :)
yeah, it should just be james cooper or at the most james f. cooper. the trifecta seems a little juvenile.
there was a couch, and that was for any passerby that was in need of a couch. now, i think, it's at an animal shelter.
i agree. maybe just fenimore. i don't even know why i was thinking of him. i mean, do people talk about his writing anymore outside graduate school?
great excerpt up at fictionaut. been thinking about that fucking cow all day. holy crap. great stuff. david
thanks man, that part was a big thing for me. i wondered and wondered if i could write it right. means a lot that you liked it.
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