January 25, 2002
Where else, but the Higher Grounds Café, San Francisco
Andrew,
Had a good day of writing yesterday. All long-hand in the notebook. But my good pen ran out of ink and I had to run across the street and buy a new, but inferior one. I am very particular about what I write with and I hate most pens. They are too slow for me. I like a fast, inky pen that flows smooth and wet. I have to go to an office supply and purchase ten of my favorite pens.
Today I will transcribe and embellish upon what I wrote yesterday. It is most of chapter 30, but I saved the climax for today. Since I know what it will be I saved it to let it brew a little. This is a scene lifted directly from the short story. The last scene of the story when Jacob drinks the lye. But here, there will be no doubt as to the outcome.
There is something quite relaxing about embarking upon a writing session in which there need be no invention. I have the skeleton, now for the flesh and blood. I love this part.
I have been reading the New Testament and have become infatuated with Paul. I wanted to discuss with you the Holy Ghost, because he/it is the key to everything yet I still do not understand it. As I see it, the Holy Ghost is the manifestation of God on Earth. But what does this mean? If Jesus sits at the right hand of God, as the bible tells us, than who is this Holy Ghost? Who is he the ghost of? Jesus? I know I am taking this too literally, but I am drawn to this almost to the point of obsession. I have decided not to discuss this with you until you are with me in the flesh. But I want to put the bug in your ear.
I am already thinking about the next book Andrew. I don’t know much about it, other then this: it will be a classic hero’s quest. Though I will not begin for at least another year. I will write the short stories after this. I am so anxious to do that. By then, perhaps, I will be close to you, in New Hampshire, and we will have regular retreats to discuss these matters.
One more thing before I go. It is a sad thing. But I have to tell somebody. As I may have told you, a friend of mine killed himself last year. He was struggling with heroin addiction. I tried to help him as best as I could. I was also his boss you see, and I gave him much leeway and many chances. I did not fire him, though there were many occasions when he should have been fired. He grew to trust me and count on me and I visited him in rehab and even spoke to his mother on his behalf. He was recovering well for awhile, but slipped back into addiction. It got to a point where I had to draw the line and I told him something I now regret. I told him that if he didn’t get his act together, I could no longer be his friend. I told him that his lying, deceit and destructive behavior could not be tolerated, that this was not the behavior of a friend. He was crushed by this. I could see it in his eyes, he even cried. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes when I told him that. I thought I was being tough. A few weeks later he hung himself in his apartment. Andrew, this guy was so talented. He could have been great (he was an animator). He was 29 Andrew,. He told me he’d never see 30. And he didn’t. I know his suicide was not my fault. But I abandoned him. I took away something that might have made a difference. I am haunted by this. Haunted.
That’s all. No moral. No climax. Nothing. That’s all there is. Inexplicable death.
I miss you Aaron. I am sorry.
[ view entry ] ( 4857 views ) | permalink |
( 3 / 505 )
Random Entry
