I've posted a chapter of my memoir every week since January. This will be the first week I skip in five months. I think I'll take a breather next week too, and then I'll return with Chapter 24 the week after.
Some have asked me how I manage to keep up this pace, and wonder if I'd begun some of this writing before. I have not; it's all new. If you're reading a chapter of my memoir on a Wednesday night, that probably means that I spent the prior Thursday night to Monday afternoon in a state of advanced writer's block. I then finally started writing late Monday night, scrapped it and started over Tuesday night, and wrote the whole thing on the train in to work Wednesday morning. I then revised it all day, posted it at 5, published it at 7, and fixed the spelling errors and factual mistakes by midnight before I went to sleep. This has not been an easy schedule to keep.
From the beginning, I intended this to be an automatic writing project, though I didn't realize it'd turn out to be such an exercise in brutalism. I'm sure I would never have revealed certain things that I've revealed in these pages if I hadn't turned off certain filters. It feels fine. But if it isn't obvious that the method I'm using here was inspired by Jack Kerouac's experiments with automatic writing, then I must not be doing my job very well.
Some have asked me why I think this memoir has any importance, suggesting that I'm just reminiscing about old friends and old places. I'm not writing this for nostalgia, I assure you.
But I might be writing it as a form of self-therapy. I sure have learned a lot about myself. Some times I like what I find, sometimes I don't. It's a little scary when I try to explain some decisions I've made and realize I can't.
We've now time-travelled from 1993 to 1999, where we'll pick up in two weeks. The years coming next are the apocalypse years, the Y2K years. The years I got rich and then got broke. The years I scuttled Literary Kicks (first) and then began rethinking it (second). The years I walked away from a relationship that was supposed to last forever, and then met and fell in love with the person who's sitting next to me right now, playing Wii Golf as I type.
Life beckons, and I need a break. Hope you'll keep reading my story, which will pick up again in two weeks, and here's a new landing page to make it easier to read it from the beginning, if you wish.