Apr 7

I changed my phone message to state that I was not to be disturbed under any circumstances unless someone was very ill in which case they could leave a message.

I've got everything I need. I figure I'll start right after I finish this and work till about ten o'clock tonight. That's 12 straight hours. I'll write three pages an hour so by bedtime I'll have 36 pages.

Excellent.

Apr 8

How loud do birds have to be before someone is allowed to shoot them? I tried to move the computer into the bedroom but I had to tidy the bedroom up first and then the living room looked so shabby in comparison that I had no choice but to clean it.

By that time it was dark and the birds were asleep so there was no point moving the computer but all that work made my hands tired.

How is anyone supposed to work with all that going on?

I gave up and watched TV.

What I need is seclusion. I should go up to the cottage and spend an entire weekend in isolation. No distractions, nothing. Just me and my words.

Apr 10

The writing group is tonight and I'm really excited! Irene's going to pick me up at 6:30.

I don't know what I should bring to read. My first chapter, or page is really strong but I think the second one has a little more atmosphere because of the info on France.

What I'm really scared of is someone stealing the material. I think I'll mail the pages to myself before I leave just to be on the safe side.

It will be great to meet other people who know the pain and sacrifice of writing.

I'm sure Irene and Jenny have no idea what it's like to cut yourself off from the world for the sake of your art. They are so pedestrian.

As much as Irene deserves to be cut down a peg I hope they go easy on her tonight. It would be awful if they told her outright her stuff stinks but if they kind of rolled their eyes that would be OK.

I would have that look that you have when you're with a friend who's embarrassing themselves. You want to look like your supporting your friend but at the same time you want the other people to know that you think her stuff is lousy.

It's a fine line.

I wonder if a beret would be too much?

Apr 11

That is the stupidest group of people I have ever met in my whole entire life.

I was imagining thin artistic looking people. Instead there were six women who looked like housewives, one guy in a hockey t-shirt and one skinny pimply guy who reeked of attitude.

They had the introductions blah, blah, blah who cares, and then they started to read their "pieces". Pieces? Oh, yuck.

They droned on and on with their stupid stories, one recounting a trip to Iowa when she was ten another expressing wonder at her wrinkled skin. After each 'piece' they would sigh and swoon and talk about how they felt they knew the character.

BOOOOOORRRRRRIIIIIINGGGG!!!!

I stopped listening and sat doodling until it was Irene's turn. I don't know when she wrote her thing but from the sound of it it must have been the third grade. It was about isolation and being misunderstood, things she knows absolutely nothing about. For God's sake I could sum her whole life up in two sentences or less! She also wrote it in this really weird repetitive way.

I braced myself and even though I was blushing with embarrassment for her I put on a show of solidarity.

I tried to catch someone's eye so we could share a wry "well, she seems like a nice person but a writer?.." look but they were all staring at her as if they were expecting something mystical to float out of her nose.

At the end of it they positively raved. I couldn't believe it! On and on about how "lyrical" the piece was how it "spoke" to them. Now I know they probably don't want to hurt any feelings but did they have to go overboard?

It was my turn next and I felt very confident. I decided to read all of what I have so far.

My material was completely wasted on them. They ooh and ahh over someone mentioning the butterfly fragility of her elbow skin but all they could ask me was a bunch of stupid questions.

They started to give me suggestions like they were the gods of writing or something. To make it completely worse, Irene was trying to say nice things about it which was worse than if she'd thrown the book on the floor and peed on it.

It was a completely miserable experience and I wish I hadn't wasted my new beret on it.

Apr 12

I've been looking over my material so far and although I know it's really good I think for it to be a bestseller I might have to dumb it down a bit.

I'm also not so crazy about Jayde as a name anymore and it might be more interesting if I placed the book in the Middle Ages. I'll just go back and put in a few horses and goblets and pad out the material with a lot of flowery stuff.

I think this is the really good thing about me. I roll with the punches and can adjust my thinking to suit people who don't have the same gifts.

I realize the Irene thing was a total fluke. They probably sensed that she felt nervous and just wanted to make her feel welcomed.

I'm different though. I think they felt I was a threat, which I am.