Here is some draft of the writing I am talking about. This is real novel stuff. I'm serious about whipping this into reality. If any of you are self-critical writers yourselves then by all means make yourself known by ripping into it. Otherwise I won't make this baby as good as it possibly can. Think of it in the context of being a possible open to the book.
In case this just seems flat and mediocre, my subvocalization as a reader to it may be off. Its a big deal mostly because I am inventing it out of air, and able to hear something of myself, essentially not standing in my way. The ultimate image of the work should be a big hole in the shape of my profile thats there from my absence.
Anyway a vision is something that I can mold, and even make ALOT better, and I have got that already. I ma very formative right now but I have a grasp of things ahead of me.
The peice as a standalone is entitled "Window".
There it is.
What is it that Im bothering to think about when Im looking out my back alley window? All that I can hope to see is a brick wall and a little bit of windowsill with a coat of white paint that doesnt fit and several cavities in it to boot, right? But there is sometimes something to see, like the bit of sun that tries to elbow its way in there at high noon. Or the brightness of it on the moisture that creeps down the wall after a brief shower. Some rains, gentle ones, were nice to witness. Though it was months ago, I remember when snow paid me a surprise visit in that private bit of space that I would call the world outside my window. I had just woken one Sunday morning and saw the shade of morning as usual.
Well the reason it matters is that this window is on my kitchen, and its my introduction to each new day to see that variation of morning light. So thats why I knew I was going to be affected by it when I started getting up at 2:00 am for my new job, and seeing only the still unresolved night every day. The light I wake up with is precursor to the kitchen. The bedroom/living room window, even the bathroom window. I dont notice them there. Its the kitchen window I notice first.
Anyway as I had said I woke up and peeked out the oracular window so to speak and saw the usual light. So I am going to make myself some coffee, French press, and thus to grind some beans. When I had turned back to look at it, I was paid a surprise visit by a spring snow! And I thought Id have to wait until Winter to see my first! There it was peeking in my window to say hello to me. I woke up immediately, just enjoyed my coffee instead of leaning into it, and had a rather good day in general, after that.
The fluffy feathers of snowfall poking his down head in my view like it was a garden apartment window and not the 2nd floor, was such a special pleasure because it was my first city snow. I had come over here to Chicago, mid-Spring from LA, I was raised on Venice Beach actually, so I had never seen snow, or snow in the city. I came here with a girlfriend, Charley, who had plans to go to grad school at UIC for Linguistics. She changed her mind and dumped me at about the same time, going back home. I think I bored her to tears. Literally, shed cry and say she was so bored. I defenestrated her pictures after that.
Regrettably on many other days, there truly is nothing outside that window. Just the humdrum of a blanket of shade from some grayish sunlight somewhere out there or an ugly heavy rain that has outstayed its welcome. What is perhaps the worst is the night. Its no brighter than looking at the darkness inside a closet. Or the gross shadows that appear from my rodent like movements going about absurd animalistic business, like eating. I get a sick Platos cave feeling from it. I have seen many a beautiful night but I never successfully observed one from that angle, that one in my kitchen. I could always sleep off the disappointment of looking out that window then, tomorrow is a new day, right? But now that I was going to have to get up early, and Id have to wake to it too. Tomorrow was not a new day. Id be dragging myself out of bed, starting my job. I'm going to garbage heaven.
Oh yeah and Happy Holidays, if that means anything to you!
In case this just seems flat and mediocre, my subvocalization as a reader to it may be off. Its a big deal mostly because I am inventing it out of air, and able to hear something of myself, essentially not standing in my way. The ultimate image of the work should be a big hole in the shape of my profile thats there from my absence.

The peice as a standalone is entitled "Window".

























There it is.
What is it that Im bothering to think about when Im looking out my back alley window? All that I can hope to see is a brick wall and a little bit of windowsill with a coat of white paint that doesnt fit and several cavities in it to boot, right? But there is sometimes something to see, like the bit of sun that tries to elbow its way in there at high noon. Or the brightness of it on the moisture that creeps down the wall after a brief shower. Some rains, gentle ones, were nice to witness. Though it was months ago, I remember when snow paid me a surprise visit in that private bit of space that I would call the world outside my window. I had just woken one Sunday morning and saw the shade of morning as usual.
Well the reason it matters is that this window is on my kitchen, and its my introduction to each new day to see that variation of morning light. So thats why I knew I was going to be affected by it when I started getting up at 2:00 am for my new job, and seeing only the still unresolved night every day. The light I wake up with is precursor to the kitchen. The bedroom/living room window, even the bathroom window. I dont notice them there. Its the kitchen window I notice first.
Anyway as I had said I woke up and peeked out the oracular window so to speak and saw the usual light. So I am going to make myself some coffee, French press, and thus to grind some beans. When I had turned back to look at it, I was paid a surprise visit by a spring snow! And I thought Id have to wait until Winter to see my first! There it was peeking in my window to say hello to me. I woke up immediately, just enjoyed my coffee instead of leaning into it, and had a rather good day in general, after that.
The fluffy feathers of snowfall poking his down head in my view like it was a garden apartment window and not the 2nd floor, was such a special pleasure because it was my first city snow. I had come over here to Chicago, mid-Spring from LA, I was raised on Venice Beach actually, so I had never seen snow, or snow in the city. I came here with a girlfriend, Charley, who had plans to go to grad school at UIC for Linguistics. She changed her mind and dumped me at about the same time, going back home. I think I bored her to tears. Literally, shed cry and say she was so bored. I defenestrated her pictures after that.
Regrettably on many other days, there truly is nothing outside that window. Just the humdrum of a blanket of shade from some grayish sunlight somewhere out there or an ugly heavy rain that has outstayed its welcome. What is perhaps the worst is the night. Its no brighter than looking at the darkness inside a closet. Or the gross shadows that appear from my rodent like movements going about absurd animalistic business, like eating. I get a sick Platos cave feeling from it. I have seen many a beautiful night but I never successfully observed one from that angle, that one in my kitchen. I could always sleep off the disappointment of looking out that window then, tomorrow is a new day, right? But now that I was going to have to get up early, and Id have to wake to it too. Tomorrow was not a new day. Id be dragging myself out of bed, starting my job. I'm going to garbage heaven.


























Oh yeah and Happy Holidays, if that means anything to you!
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
ginacherry:
I fucking LOVE IT!! Keept it up!! Can not wait to read more. By the way, have a fantabulous New YEars.
sweetavenue:
Happy New Year!!!!