Archives for posts with tag: Writers Resources

It’s none of my business what you think about me. Remember that. Duncan Roy…asshole.

Busy past few days. Mostly interested by the end of my novel. Eluded me until last night. Then, just as we are serving dinner (Michael B), it hit me like a rock in the head. The dignified end that had been requested of me.

I have had to really listen these past few days. Listen to somebody I have never met yet whose opinions I trust. Somebody who although several thousand miles away, is as engaged as I am with my book. It is all at once disconcerting and exhilarating.

He asked if I was wedded to the idea that this be a ‘gay’ novel. Don’t! That’s what I thought. Please don’t do this to me. Then, without a moments thought I said that I wasn’t wedded to the idea but didn’t know if I could write it any other way. He suggested that I re read a certain novel with similar themes. That I might be inspired. Well, I did and I was. He was right.

As a result of his suggestion..everything has to be re-jigged but it is smoother, less…his words…’self conscious’. That seems to be what he levels at me most often…that my writing is ‘self conscious’. Then I think to myself, you are out there helping me write a better novel. Do you want to write? No, he says. That’s not my job. I don’t have those aspirations. Like a therapist he is loathed to talk about anything else other than my work and me. He is a closed book.

He helped me with the POV (Point of View) which I had thought about a million times when making a film but never when writing prose.

So, there’s a beginning, middle and an end. That’s that.

What else? Well, I have been in the garden for hours. It looks amazing. I am either at my desk editing or I am in the garden planting and pruning. My nails are constantly black with mud. There is a trail of dirt through the house where I can’t be bothered to take off my shoes but get very grumpy if anyone else forgets to.

I went to a dinner with Tom and wished he didn’t want to sleep with 19 year old boys but wanted to sleep with me. I had sex with the deaf boy whose deafness kinda turns me on. We fucked. I wish I knew him better.

The Dane arrives this evening and we set off on our adventure. What is it with me and adventures?

Have been to therapy every day. I feel great. I feel complete. I know, God damn it, that this will pass but being active in the body and the mind seems to placate my yearning heart. However, I am acutely aware that when I feel good like this I start hankering for more. Where’s mine?

Great weekend in Malibu.  Loads going on.

Therapy Saturday.  Lunch with filmy people.  Another lunch with Gabe and Toby in Venice.

Met two very sweet Redondo boys in coffee shop.

Writer arrived at 1pm.  Twins came home on Sunday as I am working with writer.   Both of them had a great night in Hollywood.  They got so drunk and sick and in trouble but separately.  They lay down looking worse for wear.

The writer left.  I vacuumed the house.

Miami Henry popped over.  Made dinner for the four of us.  Twins surprised that I made the salad dressing.

Henry left after dinner.  Bed at midnight.

Nothing more to report.  I have been writing like a crazy person.

I am thinking of checking into rehab.  Seriously.  I can’t go on like this.

Calm seas.  Usual Suspects.  Malibu today.  Beginning to take things back there.  Who am I writing this blog for?  210,000 unique hits.  Probably more now.

The smell of burned coffee in the apartment.  Can’t wait to leave this place.

Maybe not so calm.  When I write this I start riling myself up.  Even when things feel good.  It isn’t delivering the peace I used to feel when I used to write it.

It used to be fun to blog but that was before it became an ‘issue’ with him.

I never understood how he could hate it so much?  I’m sure that he hates it now..this blog.  Why shouldn’t he?  As he retreats and I am left up on the mountainside in the ark.  The sea retreating, leaving the ark on the side of the mountain.  No dove of peace just a little dog.

Michael told me stuff yesterday that I didn’t feel like listening.  Would I rather be right or happy?  In essence that is what he was saying.

Sunday morning.  Helicopters already circling over head.

I think it’s going to be hot today.  Hot and dry.

Jennie stopped writing her blog.   Perhaps I should stop writing mine.  It used to be cathartic.  I used to enjoy the validation but of late it feels like all I do is fight the demons..even when there are none.

Deconstructing the apartment.  Stacking the art that needs to be sold and I still have more art to hang on every single empty hook.  How could one man have amassed so much?

Lunch date tomorrow.  Is my heart going to be engaged?  Can I be bothered?  I seem to know the outcome before I even get there.  The script is already written.

There are more creative ways to start the day than indulgently publishing my diary.

New renters arrive today.  The penultimate batch before I move back in.

I had a lovely time last night.  Dinner with Jane.  Duck salad at the Mercantile. The duck was a little over cooked.  The little dog ignored the morsel I left for him.

Going to get into the truck and go in minute.  Shorts and tee.  Little dog.  Coffee burned in the pan.

Reading World War Z.  It’s about Zombies.

There are more than two positions to take.  Happy or sad?  I am just here..with more than enough, consoled by faith.   Can you believe that I just dragged an almost complete stranger around Europe?