Saturday, February 4

on writing and oblong velvet hats

It’s a gorgeous Saturday afternoon here in sunny Tucson. We’re all outside having beers and typing things on our laptops. That is – I’m having a beer and typing. Raphael is having a beer and doing some “digital modeling”. (Porn, I assume.) Lila is not having a beer and is currently also not typing anything or doing any "digital modeling" since we haven’t yet gotten around to buying her a laptop although it's probably only a matter of time. The Indestructable Kong Laptop would, I'm sure, be a big seller. Especially in California.

I’m here to write other things besides the blog, but figured I would stop by and say hello before moving onto my opus. My current magnum opus, I should call it. Because there’s always that ONE THING I’M WORKING ON THAT’S GOING TO BE SO. MIND-BLOWINGLY. AWESOME. until everything goes to hell and I put it in a drawer and call it hideous and never look at it again. My current magnum opus is still in my good graces – hanging on by a thread, but so far still dangling.

I’ve recently become part of a “writers’ salon” which sounds to me very Bohemian and conjures images of me wearing some kind of oblong velvet hat and smoking a cigarette on a long stick and generally being extremely sophisticated and witty while lounging amongst jewel-toned pillows. In reality, it’s a small group of sensibly dressed writers – seven of us, including our fearless leader, Beth -- who meet twice a month in the group room of the Greek restaurant down the street where you order at the counter and fill your own glass with water and aren't allowed to smoke inside. 

It’s a very good restaurant. I don’t mean to be all like oh god, this restaurant, you don’t know -  I’m just attempting to convey it’s non-Bohemianness. The food is delicious. The people who work there are my new best friends, they’re so nice. The only thing Bohemian about the whole thing is that we get to drink wine while discussing writing if we want to.  Which I will this coming Monday since I’ve turned in my latest opus to be critiqued. It’s gone through a critique once already, during the class I took last semester, but I don’t think it’s as finished as those reviews suggested, so I’m interested to see what a smaller, more intimate group of Very Serious Writers thinks about it. I’ve noticed that, generally speaking, I tend to get torn apart more in more intimate settings. Very Serious Writers tend to be a scary and passionate and opinionated bunch. They don’t like their time wasted. (“Jesus God, I could be reading GOOD writing.”)

Why I continue to pay for emotional trauma semester after semester, I couldn't tell you.

I’m exaggerating a little, of course. While generally opinionated and non-punch-holding, the salon people are all great writers with sparkling personalities, and I’m excited to have been included in the group, and when they all become famous I fully plan to do some name-dropping to get whatever is my current magnum opus published, too.

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