Sorry for the dearth of content this week. I know you'd like something new every day.
I had to spend the whole day yesterday doing house- and yardwork, cooking, shopping, bills, that sort of thing—the administrative duties of life. Usually I reserve Saturdays for that stuff, but last Saturday I spent most of the day writing the first draft of the first half of the "Curious Thing About a Book" post.
Long posts take take the vinegar out of me for a day or two afterwards. That one took three whole days to write—it went through the equivalent of several drafts and rearrangements. After I posted it I was temporarily depleted of writing energy.
I consider myself a slow and scant writer. The "Curious" essay is 2,630 words as published. And a fair amount of what I wrote, I cut. Steven King said any writer worth his salt should be able to write 2,000 words a day. I'm good for around 1,000, give or take 300. It doesn't take long to write, but I rewrite obsessively, going over things again and again and again. Much over 1,500 words takes all day and I have a hangover the next. Then again, Joyce Carol Oates doesn't consider herself a fast writer (per this article) and she's written "sixty-three novels, forty-seven collections of short stories, and numerous plays, librettos, children's novels, and books of poetry." That's according to The New Yorker, so you can bet your bottom dollar it was fact-checked.
I've considered trying to write two longer posts per week, or even one, but I don't think it would work. I'd fall behind sooner or later. I'm not very consistent. All through my youth I used to say, "constancy is my worst thing." It's one hallmark of a depressive. We have lots of energy sometimes and no energy at other times. Samuel Johnson, who today would no doubt be diagnosed as bipolar, would excoriate himself for his long periods of lethargy and then try to make up for it with Herculean exertions when he was in a manic phase. Although I don't suffer anywhere near as badly as he did, I can identify.
"Curious" was the kind of essay that will be tl;dr for many people. Of those who did read it, I'm sure only a minority subset were interested, and probably a minority subset of that minority subset enjoyed it. But one thing I've learned writing a blog for very close to 20 years now: not everything is for everyone. It's great when a post is read and enjoyed by a lot of people, but it's equally good when you touch a small number of people deeply.
Anticlimactic
I'm largely over my depression, thanks to a long course of antidepressants in the early 2000s, administered by Dr. David Holloway, M.D., Ph.D., and subsequent involvement in my own fellowship community. It's kind of a miracle, actually. Dr. Holloway advocated involvement in community as an important aspect of recovering from depression. And, not coincidentally, I started this blog halfway through treatment. Pace our friend Kirk, David Holloway also uttered the memorable line, "All of my patients who exercise do better than any of my patients who don't." His approach to depression was holistic and multifaceted. I'm lucky. And grateful. I never get as depressed now as I used to get all the time.
Next up, Next week, my impression of the Leica D-Lux 7. Just a warning...it might be anticlimactic.
The clever drunk
Good alcoholic story. It's true, I think—comes from a good source. [CORRECTION: Nope! I am wrong. It might have its origins in truth, but not in any way that can be determined or proven now. It's folklore. A folkjoke? —Ed.] A man is out drinking. On his way home, on a four-lane divided highway, he gets pulled over. He figures he's had it, because he's very drunk. The cop gets him out of the car to do sobriety tests—touch your nose, walk a straight line, that sort of thing.
But just as this gets started, there's an accident across the highway in the two lanes going the other way. Cop points at the guy, says, "stay right there!" and runs over to help. Drivers are pulling over and getting out of their cars to see if they can assist. More police arrive. People on the drunk's side of the highway slow down to look. The other side of the highway is down to one lane; traffic slows down and backs up. Ambulance and paramedics arrive. The drunk waits patiently for ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, watching all this. But he's thinking. And the more he thinks, the more convinced he becomes that the cop never asked for his license and registration when he first pulled him over. Probably intended to get it during the arrest. Which probably would have happened, as he had been drinking heavily. The whole scene is busy and confusing now. There are a lot of people milling around all over the place. He seems to have been completely forgotten in all the commotion. Nobody is paying the slightest attention to him.
So the drunk decides to very casually get back in the car and drive home. Which he does. He drives home, puts the car in the garage, and goes to bed.
The next day, a knock comes at the front door. It's the police. They ask him if he left the scene of an arrest the night before. He feigns surprise and says, "No, officers, it wasn't me. It couldn't have been me. I've been at home all day today and I was right here all day yesterday. Never went out."
"You weren't stopped for suspicion of driving under the influence?"
"No. I didn't have a drop to drink all day yesterday. I was home all day. Wasn't drinking at all."
The cops say okay, but where's your car?
"It's in the garage."
Cops say okay, show us your car. If it's there, we'll leave.
The man confidently leads them through the house to the door to the garage. Opens the door and...
...In the garage is a police cruiser, and with the flashers and roof lights still going!
-
Some days are better than others,
Mike
Original contents copyright 2024 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)
Featured Comments from:
Thomas Mc Cann: "The drunk story is priceless. Rarely do I laugh out loud at something I am reading."
John Camp: "Nobody with common sense pays attention to how many words another writer can put down in a day. King probably does do 2,000—he writes a lot of books, and they're fat. Annie Dillard, who wrote Pilgrim at Tinker Creek and later The Writing Life implies in the latter book that days of effort may not get her anywhere at all. She says that a book takes between two and ten years to write, and her books are thin.
"I've written, so far, 58 novels and two non-fiction books, plus some short stories and journalism. I generally try for about 1,500 words a day, which I can get if I don't have to invent anything that day (if I know where I'm going with a story). Other writers I've talked to are all over the place. One of them writes outlines so long that he only has to fill in a few thousand words to have a novel, which seems odd to me, but he does well with it. Like no other kind of work that I can think of, financially successful writers seem to share almost no common characteristics. Male, female, young, old, all races...Delia Owens was 70 years old when she published Where the Crawdads Sing, one of the most successful books of recent years. Some write one or two very good books and then disappear; others write dozens. Nora Roberts has published 277 novels, and the ones I've read, I've liked.
"So...how many words you get down in a day is relatively meaningless, unless, of course, you write a blog that has to be refreshed all the time. Then you're screwed."
Jeff: "The drunk story has been going around, in various forms, since at least the 1980s, reported both as fact and as humor."
Benjamin Marks: "Also delivered as a monologue in the picture Good Will Hunting."
I did read the last post but it was too long. I guess that makes it tl/dr. My problem was I found it old news, we all bring our history to anything we experience, my history just wasn’t helpful to your cause, sorry.
Posted by: Terry Letton | Thursday, 08 August 2024 at 09:34 PM
We all face our own battles. Some say, "Everyone's fighting something." I grew up feeling like I was placed in the wrong box straight out of the factory, navigating an off-centered childhood where the environment was cold and the milk jug was always empty.
It was through my previous marriage that I came to understand who I am. I’m a happy workaholic who doesn’t sleep well. While I wish I could change the sleep part, I’ve accepted it and found that living alone suits me best.
My therapist once told me it took her two years of weekly sessions before I finally opened up. Still, I committed to therapy for many years, and it was worth it. Sometimes, a good friend comes in the form of someone you have to pay.
You are a beautiful person with so much to offer the world. The more I read your words, the more I want to hear. Keep doing what you’re doing; the best is yet to come.
Posted by: darlene | Thursday, 08 August 2024 at 11:23 PM
I quite enjoyed “A Curious Thing About a Book” (you know there are several ways to parse that)
I quite enjoyed the comments too, although I didn’t really have time to make a meaningful comment. It was a day of intermittent availability of my iPhone and that was about it. I got about halfway through a rather shaggy francophone dog comment on the death of the author put my thumb sort of failed halfway through so I substituted a Barth name check.
I’d by fine with a mix of pieces ( content is an ugly word I think ) like that, some historical explorations of the intersection of art, commerce and technology, for example how the eleven Robert Capa shaped the idea of authentic photography, or the idea of authenticity in representation generally when their appearance was shaped by commercial considerations as much as anything. I just had a show of photos from CBGB and Studio 54 in the 70s that emulated that look because people thought it was more realistic. I can’t remember what I was thinking, current me thinks old me was kind of a jerk. Intersperse with something like the history of the lens and billiard balls and I’d be happy.
Posted by: hugh crawford | Friday, 09 August 2024 at 02:28 AM
Way too many "not better" days lately for me. I'm really, really glad to read that you're "largely over your depression", Mike. My sincerest wishes you can remove the "largely" before too long. Wishing you peace.
[And you, Mike. --Mike]
Posted by: Mike Potter | Friday, 09 August 2024 at 03:00 AM
For me "Curious" is the best thing that you have written in a long time.
The drunk driver story is hilarious and so outlandish it must be true!
Posted by: Bob Johnston | Friday, 09 August 2024 at 03:40 AM
As a former runner, you’ll get this analogy: The majority of long runs should be run at an easy pace. Save challenging paces for shorter distances. Planned recovery days are wise, but a forced recovery day because of running too long or too hard is not ideal. Conserving energy will help you run more often and feel more energized.
Come race day, not every run is going to win gold, but we’re all glad you’re on the road.
Sean
Posted by: Sean | Friday, 09 August 2024 at 07:26 AM
Goldang it, sucked me in with clickbait!
Posted by: Bruce Bordner | Friday, 09 August 2024 at 10:44 AM
Having taught technical writing for years, and having edited many documents (including my own), I can emphatically call bull**** on Stephen King's claim that a good writer can write 2,000 words a day. Sure, a writer can bang out that many words--but what percentage of them are worth reading? The most important part of writing is not the initial word dump, but what the writer does with that dump once it has been written. Such an accomplished writer should know better than to equate quantity with quality.
Give me a tightly written piece any day. I'm well past the point at which a long document or a quickly-produced document will impress me.
Posted by: Greg Boiarsky | Friday, 09 August 2024 at 12:26 PM
I wish you would stop apologizing. The last article was so great.
Anxiety is such a life killer. My husband was diagnosed with liver cancer during the pandemic. I had to stay in a hotel in Boston while he was treated and go out for meals as they cancelled room service. I had such a panic attack, I thought it was a heart attack. I was terrified of giving him covid. He fully recovered, is doing great, but my anxiety stayed at an increased level. After getting a prescription for it, I found myself sitting at home, my mind a total blank. After a week, I realized I didn’t know how to think without anxiety. I no longer had the constant negative thoughts about myself that I’ve had my whole life.
I know this is tmi, and feel free, of course, to delete it, but it made such a difference in my life.
Sharon
Posted by: Sharon | Friday, 09 August 2024 at 12:48 PM
seems like the entire "Curious" article could have been condensed to: "You can't step into the same stream of water twice..."
Posted by: Henry White | Friday, 09 August 2024 at 01:08 PM
2000 words a day? "That's not writing, that's typing."*
"Which it'll be ready when it's ready."**
You're doing fine. Keep up the good, and thoughtful, work.
*Truman Capote, speaking of Jack Kerouac's "On the Road"
**the captain's servant Preserved Killick, in the novels of Patrick O'Brian
Posted by: Mark Sampson | Friday, 09 August 2024 at 02:30 PM
Nobody with common sense pays attention to how many words another writer can put down in a day. King probably does do 2,000 -- he writes a lot of books, and they're fat. Annie Dillard, who wrote "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek" and later "The Writing Life" implies in the latter book that days of effort may not get her anywhere at all. She says that a book takes between two and ten years to write, and her books are thin. I've written so far 58 novels and two non-fiction books, plus some short stories and journalism. I generally try for about 1,500 words a day, which I can get if I don't have to invent anything that day (if I know where I'm going with a story.) Other writers I've talked to are all over the place. One of them writes outlines so long that he only has to fill in a few thousand words to have a novel, which seems odd to me, but, he does well with it. Like no other kind of work that I can think of, (financially successful) writers seem to share almost no common characteristics. Male, female, young, old, all races...Delia Owens was 70 years old when she published "Where the Crawdads Sing," one of the most successful books of recent years. Some write one or two very good books and then disappear; others write dozens. Nora Roberts has published 277 novels, and the ones I've read, I've liked. So...how many words you get down in a day is relatively meaningless, unless, of course, you write a blog that has to be refreshed all the time. Then you're screwed.
Posted by: John Camp | Friday, 09 August 2024 at 04:54 PM
You might consider in your writing here that “perfection is the enemy of good/progress”. For my own reading here, I am looking for general content that’s interesting and correct. I’m not looking for perfection in presentation. I understand your own desire for things to be “right”. I fight my own inclination to spend twice as much time/energy to get from 90% to 95% as I spend getting from 0 to 90%.
Posted by: Kristine Hinrichs | Friday, 09 August 2024 at 05:22 PM
Way too many "not better" days lately for me. I'm really, really glad to read that you're "largely over your depression", Mike. My sincerest wishes you can remove the "largely" before too long. Wishing you peace.
[And you, Mike. --Mike]
Thank you, Mike. You're a good soul.
Posted by: Mike Potter | Saturday, 10 August 2024 at 12:49 AM
I am currently leading a team that is editing and re-drafting an International Convention; one that exerts control over an element of a surprising proportion of the entire planet’s GDP. Some good days we get 150 words done. As usual “well, I guess that depends”.
Voltz
Posted by: V.I. Voltz | Saturday, 10 August 2024 at 01:54 AM
John Camp is a very bad man:-)
Posted by: James Weekes | Saturday, 10 August 2024 at 09:23 AM
I don't know much. But I know this. You need to spend quality meaningful time with friends.
If you don't have any, cultivate some.
Far more practical and useful than anyone you'll converse with electronically.
Be brave. I dare you.
Posted by: Kye Wood | Saturday, 10 August 2024 at 09:25 AM
I think writing is like raking Fall leaves into piles and picking out two or three for closer study later…
Posted by: Bob G. | Sunday, 11 August 2024 at 11:35 AM
I assume that your “good source” was Will Hunting’s good buddy who-in the movie Good Will Hunting-told the exact same story to his drinking buddies, insisting that it was a true story.
Posted by: Mark Hobson | Monday, 12 August 2024 at 10:39 AM