Some sun this morning then pouring rain. it’s two o’clock now and I need all the lights on in my little office to get any work done. Another trip for Jan to do physical therapy. Dog park with friends and Dog was tearing up the field, she slammed into Ted and I offered to take him some of my ice packs to his house but he graciously declined. She is a lunk-head but not mean spirited. I’ve just have to slow her down when she gets too zoomed up around humans. Then Jan and I went by Galen and Ernie’s. They are back from their place in Sunnyside just up the inlet from Pelican. We sat outside, drank fizzy water, in the very light rain, and talked about Covid and politics, Galen’s garden, and our dogs. Their dog Macy has gotten old enough and wise enough not to want to rumble with Dot so I had to restrain Dot from wrestling with Macy which worked fine until Dot decided she would either wrestle with me or sit on my lap and give me smooches which did not work out so well, for no chair is sturdy enough for both me and a wiggly Dot.
I enjoy writing about Dot, but I decided a while ago that I was not going to be the guy who makes my dog the center of attention everywhere. Though I like to socialize her or try for a few minutes but if she calms down that’s great but when she discovers the next thing to do to be a pest then it’s time for a time out. I don’t want to be that dog guy, “Oh she’s just a puppy, she’ll settle down.” and everyone is muttering under their breath, “Yeah… in about two fucking years.”
The big announcement for today is that I’m going to cut back on the blogging again. Down to once a week, because it’s time to start in seriously on writing the draft of my next book. I hope to have something done by the end of January/ first of February and then I will leave it alone for a bit. I will be shooting for at least twelve hundred words a day of useable text. When I do this my mind pretty much fills up with the world of the book. I sometimes even dream from that world. This will be Cold Storage, Alaska 1968. The Hippy fishing fleet is coming on scene. the old timers have to adjust or get out of the way. Depression Era frontiers people meet the future Woodstock back to the landers. Oly Beer and marijuana. Longhairs, and old time seditionists. Beefy men chewing snuse wearing frayed logger pants, and women in Mexican blouses without brassieres dancing around beach fires. “Good Times Bad Times, know I’ve had my share.”
Anyway, I’m looking forward to it. But I think I’m going to have to take a deep dive and immerse myself. I’m ready to go and have plenty to work with. Right now the title I’m using is: Blown By The Same Wind.
The first few days I will work on organizing my notes and cleaning up my office. This always feels good before starting a draft. I will have my three by five index cards all collected and boxed up. I will play my plot game where I lay them out and pick them up, until I’m satisfied on the general direction and the arcs. Then I will blast off: twelve hundred words at a time.
Of course the other big thing happening is Finn and Emily are coming to live with us and Jan is having her sixty seventh birthday and that takes energy and time. But the book will be the main thing giving my life structure. I will do the blog once a week and I will keep in touch. I might take more time off around the election to check in just to make sure everyone…. everyone gets out and votes. But basically… the book is the thing.
I hope you all stay well and take good care of each other.
We will be in touch.
John Straley
Sitka, Alaska
jhstraley@gmail.com
Hard rain, deep puddles:
circles inside of circles
and a crow…. watching.
jhs
no recording today.
