This may be a 2010, if you can believe. Nice little palate skip about it. Anyway, tonight, printing 3 pages from book, for editing tomorrow, on Lit Lunch. Will follow through with this. 3 pages of the 40 I’m to submit. So much writing today, I somewhat startled Self. 1540, typed at Roasting Co. And in cube, over 3 pages scribbled. This book, changing everything, bringing me to that image I always see. Me, late hour, hotel Room, after event. Be it a signing, lecture, conference. Sipping a deeply layered, rumbling Cabernet, writing to Wine beats. Nothing to do next morning, only have to catch my afternoon flight. I can see the desk in the Room, the wine bottle, aside the keyboard, my right hand. I sip... Think of the next trip, what I’ll be doing.
The nose, floral, romantically patterned. Wine out there, for me to write about. Maybe I should do another wine blog, after this one dies. One similar? There is 1Stop, that’s a blog. Informational, visual, commercial. Not with a voice, not like this one. You know, I should save such for the book, books. In my Comp book, journal, details, just as I premeditated. How do I organize all this research, these flashing reflections? Should study Capote some more, film and author. How he organized that masterwork from the Clutter murders, Kansas 1959. I’m convinced, following several strung-together screenings of this piece, that I have more than enough in this very Room, in my own home, to complete three best-selling novels. Or books. Could go fiction, or non. Sometimes I think the latter’s more auspicious, just as it is for poets, songwriters. This blending grape, Cab Franc, I see many times overlooked. Too bad. Silencing serious sippers into sad. Not me, I’m celebrating. Full cup, half page. Printing...
12/20/2011, Tuesday
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