I Hate Writing

 I have spent most of the weekend since Saturday afternoon working on "The Dead and The Dying". I finished laying down the story last night around 7 or 8. Now, I hate the story, I hate the process of writing. I would have had it finished yesterday, but for an annoying headache on Saturday. When I napped because my back hurt, but I only took an hour out yesterday.

And Saturday morning was actually pretty good - things went so smoothly. I went to the bank and got my debit card replaced and groceries bought.

I may finally have worked through the effects from my choking episode from Friday morning. Saturday, there was still a heaviness in my chest and yesterday just a burning and indigestion. I laid off the RC Cola yesterday, and I ate very lightly.

It has been the better part of a week with not communicating with CC. I do not think her offending me has been mentioned. As far as I am concerned, time has come for that relationship to end.

This song feels appropriate:

I don't know if you know John Hiatt. He had a run of hits back in the late 80s and 90s. He wrote A Thing Called Love that was a hit for Bonnie Raitt. He is from Indiana, and goes back a way. The only Indiana singer/writer that I'd put ahead of Mellencamp.

I learned on Friday that the group therapy counselor thinks I need to get more sociable. Someone in the group suggested I get a girlfriend! Does no one understand I am retired? I'm doing what I want, and what I want is quiet and simple and peaceful. If putting all those words together makes sense. I feel good with what I have been writing. Being creative and not self-destructive is what I meant to do before I came home, and I have been able to stick to that.

Church went well. We will have our permanent priest this coming Sunday.

Scotland uber alles:

The man who knew how to start a riot:

Philomena Cunk takes on modern history:

That will give you an idea of what I was listening to when I was writing, or watching during my breaks.

Something inspiring to read from Pitchfork: The Jimi Hendrix Experience; Are You Experienced.

I read this last week, and was not sure how to categorize it and then the fiction got in the way: Anne Helen Petersen's The World Has Always Been On Fire.

Most of our lives are that way, too. Apart from a few seismic events, we live our lives and live our lives and live our lives and keep living them, usually without the promise of glory or recognition. “I’ve been interested in this idea of kindness without hope,” Vuong continues. “What I saw working in fast food growing up in Hartford County was that people are kind even when they know it won’t matter. Where does that come from? I watched co-workers get together and dig each other out of blizzards. They could just dig themselves out and leave, go home sooner, hug their families, but they all stayed, and they dug each other out. What is kindness exhibited knowing there is no payoff?”

Like so many other writers, these past years have been filled with moments where writing — writing anything, publishing anything — has felt self-deluded and futile. But we have to use the mediums available to us, whatever they are, to speak — but also to listen. To write — but also to read. To extend care‚ and be cared for in return. To change someone else’s mind and allow your mind to be changed. To practice kindness, even and especially without hope.

And then, maybe — and I hesitate to even write it, lest it sound too much like hope — forking subtly from our lineage of despair, there’s the whisper of the idea Vuong leaves at the end of his advice to his students. Something new.

This does hit home for me. If I am to write honestly about my world, then it has to be admitted how quiet and small-scale is that reality. It is the quotidian survival - the going to work; the drama of paying bills rather than issues that might change the course of empires; the love life of those are lacking anything operatic. If I could write short stories better, it might be the better form for what I feel are miniaturist tales. I have had this piece in my mind in the latest remodeling of "The Dead and The Dying ", but I am not sure if I hit the mark. It might be a bit hard with several ghosts being featured.

I agree with Ted Gioia's 5 Ways to Stop AI Cheating, but especially with these points:

(2) MY PROFESSORS TAUGHT ME AT TUTORIALS IN THEIR OFFICES. THEY WOULD GRILL ME VERBALLY—AND I WAS EXPECTED TO HAVE IMMEDIATE RESPONSES TO ALL THEIR QUESTIONS.

The Oxford education is based on the tutorial system. It’s a conversation in the don’s office. This was often one-on-one. Sometimes two students would share a tutorial with a single tutor. But I never had a tutorial with more than three people in the room.

I was expected to show up with a handwritten essay. But I wouldn’t hand it in for grading—I read it aloud in front of the scholar. He would constantly interrupt me with questions, and I was expected to have smart answers.

When I finished reading my paper, he would have more follow-up questions. The whole process resembled a police interrogation from a BBC crime show.

There’s no way to cheat in this setting. You either back up what you’re saying on the spot—or you look like a fool. Hey, that’s just like real life.

(3) ACADEMIC RESULTS WERE BASED ENTIRELY ON HANDWRITTEN AND ORAL EXAMS. YOU EITHER PASSED OR FAILED—AND MANY FAILED.

The Oxford system was brutal. Your future depended on your performance at grueling multi-day examinations. Everything was handwritten or oral, all done in a totally contained and supervised environment.

Cheating was impossible. And behind-the-scenes influence peddling was prevented—my exams were judged anonymously by professors who weren’t my tutors. They didn’t know anything about me, except what was written in the exam booklets.

I did well and thus got exempted from the dreaded viva voce—the intense oral exam that (for many students) serves as follow-up to the written exams.

That was a relief, because the viva voce is even less susceptible to bluffing or games-playing than tutorials. You are now defending yourself in front of a panel of esteemed scholars, and they love tightening the screws on poorly prepared students.

I can imagine high school students fainting at the idea of writing by hand. And, yes, some of these ideas could be applied to high schools. I am sure someone will call them elitist, which is pejorative these days. We are totally screwed if we denigrate competence because people are too lazy to make an effort

Another rejection for "Problem Solving":

Thank you for your submission to The Georgia Review. We have read your manuscript carefully and decided against publication. 

We appreciated the opportunity to consider your work.

Sincerely,

The editors of The Georgia Review

Why incarceration is not enough: Incarcerated women at Indiana Women’s Prison earn degrees (Mirror Indy). This changes the person more than punishment. Education changes also the family. It gives them a better sense of being - as being more than a member of the underclass - it makes them part of civil society.

A Young Professional Shares Why She Loves Living in Muncie, IN  (Livability.com) had me wondering until she complimented By Hand and Fork.

Do you have any favorite restaurants or coffee shops that you’d recommend?

In downtown Muncie, there’s The Caffeinery, which is a place I really like for coffee. My automatic go-to is an iced caramel latte or maybe a frozen coffee during the summer. There’s also a place in Yorktown called Coffee Cravings, where I’ve had a good experience. As far as restaurants go, my favorite place in Muncie is By Hand & Fork. I love breakfast food, and they have great waffles. I usually get the chicken and waffles.

No fiction today. I need to take of business. And I need to cut off here to get ready for work. We're having an office meeting at noon. I find nothing good about such meetings - they're a PITA anyway it goes.