Roppongi Hills like. Stacy Hughes, 2016.
I spent my younger years mourning the passing of something that was not really gone.
Since I've found a path of constant forward, I've also found a way of structuring time. To be a cloud novelist, attempting to find space and order in chaos. Much of it self-committed, other parts related to excesses and doomsday preps, on a globally warming earth.
Nils is helping me with an Arisugawa Park translation into German. Here is a recent conversation from that, "...and it is Japanese grammar influenced, so there are a lot of levels, once we get the literary nerds interested, everything else is gravy” (Welcome to the wizarding world of Facebook English).
I’m currently putting together the next section of Arisugawa Park, 1.23 - Anticipation in which David embarks on yet another sketchy assignment for the resourceful frame-up victim Eve.
The process involves a full rewrite of several paragraphs, bordering on pages. This is what I love about Dickensian endurance writing. There is no editor or agent to reign me in, I follow the muse. To make this work... ah, to make this work....
Here are three choice quotes from the WIP:
" He was aware of his surroundings in a way he never had been before in Tokyo, embarked on a course that was truly unavoidable if he considered himself a worthy human."
"He had never quite understood what Bob Dylan was getting at with You Gotta Serve Somebody––now he was starting to have an inkling. He was letting himself be manipulated, he knew––but this was so fucking… out of a Dashiell Hammett novel, a woman so vaguely intense as to be half-imagined as destruction.”
"David rode his old mama cheri from the gaijinhouse,careful to keep his feet on the edges of the pedals, avoiding stains on a Bangkok-tailored suit from the Hugo Boss Spring 2010 collection. The soft grey suit had stood out in the well-worn catalogue proffered by Charles, a round-in-the-belly Indian tailor off of Sukhumvit Road––lengthy rolls of kashmir wool unspooled to take measurements."
#endwriter
All Rights Reserved Damon Shulenberger.
Since I've found a path of constant forward, I've also found a way of structuring time. To be a cloud novelist, attempting to find space and order in chaos. Much of it self-committed, other parts related to excesses and doomsday preps, on a globally warming earth.
Nils is helping me with an Arisugawa Park translation into German. Here is a recent conversation from that, "...and it is Japanese grammar influenced, so there are a lot of levels, once we get the literary nerds interested, everything else is gravy” (Welcome to the wizarding world of Facebook English).
I’m currently putting together the next section of Arisugawa Park, 1.23 - Anticipation in which David embarks on yet another sketchy assignment for the resourceful frame-up victim Eve.
The process involves a full rewrite of several paragraphs, bordering on pages. This is what I love about Dickensian endurance writing. There is no editor or agent to reign me in, I follow the muse. To make this work... ah, to make this work....
Here are three choice quotes from the WIP:
" He was aware of his surroundings in a way he never had been before in Tokyo, embarked on a course that was truly unavoidable if he considered himself a worthy human."
"He had never quite understood what Bob Dylan was getting at with You Gotta Serve Somebody––now he was starting to have an inkling. He was letting himself be manipulated, he knew––but this was so fucking… out of a Dashiell Hammett novel, a woman so vaguely intense as to be half-imagined as destruction.”
"David rode his old mama cheri from the gaijinhouse,careful to keep his feet on the edges of the pedals, avoiding stains on a Bangkok-tailored suit from the Hugo Boss Spring 2010 collection. The soft grey suit had stood out in the well-worn catalogue proffered by Charles, a round-in-the-belly Indian tailor off of Sukhumvit Road––lengthy rolls of kashmir wool unspooled to take measurements."
#endwriter
All Rights Reserved Damon Shulenberger.
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