Here is news:
I will be reading a new piece titled ‘Fireworks’ at the Laundry in San Francisco (3359 26th street) on July 1st sometime between 7-9 but probably at 8ish because I’m the first piece in the second set.
I just finished reading the debut novel of Lydia Kiesling titled ‘The Golden State’.
Once I finished it I looked her up on the old facebook and realized we had four friends in common. Such is the Bay Area. (It’s a really awesome debut and helped me love mothers and their bonds with their infants and their resiliency to power through for love.)
Does this mean I start reading ‘Women Talking’ by Miriam Toews? I am a huge fan of Toews, I’ve read most all of her work, but this new novel is rancidly sweet. The last woman I went all in on, (heart, soul, life) was/is devastated by some horrendous acts of despicable men. I took up boxing classes and found some respite in punching something so hard my soul could only cry or laugh in the incompetence of the situation. A therapist told me vicarious trauma is a thing. I told her this is all fading and it has, to a degree.
It has made me a better man, in the eyes of women. Empathy goes both ways. Though I can’t doubt that it has made my patience with men, especially aggressive men, extremely short. And I fear I see the day my rage and anger for those shitfucks comes to meet one of them, should it ever. I don't want to go to jail.
Back to the book. Do I read it? Does it trigger me to wanting to beat the shit out of terrible people? I will consult my favorite librarian.
In other news I studied the fuck out of beer and I failed a really important test on account of miss tasted two styles for off flavors I couldn’t detect due to my faulty olfactory and less than excellent palate. I got so close and it wasn’t my mind that failed me.
I’m currently studying the chemistry, history and construction of cocktails and their culture.
I’m not writing the novel. But I think about it everyday, I love it still, enough.
My hesitation with finishing it lies in the same vein of having children.
Do I want it to live in this world? Does this world deserve it? If this world is so ready to reward terrible terrible people how foolish am I to raise my hand and say “I really think we should start to pay attention to other people and not ourselves.”
It’s easy to say I’m foolish. I like to be foolish.
But I am trying hard to keep from being naive.
I’m also trying to figure out the difference.