20 March 2015
0 and then...
it is awful and full of holes and unready to be read by anyone but if a book is a thing with a beginning and a middle and an end, i have one.
when i talked to them separately, both garebear and debo had the same question: what's next? then garebear told me what book he was reading and debo told me about the gluten-free blueberry muffins she'd made for burvil into which she failed to put the butter in when it was supposed to go in.
and i thought, no no no no this cannot happen.
this is how it is in supervision. this immediate plowing ahead into the next thing so it feels like you never accomplish anything but you are always treading mud, because the fact that a zillion victories have had to occur to bring you to the point where that future thing is contemplable is never acknowledged.
i think no no no because this totally amorphous thing- the coming together of this beginning and middle and end with a subtle click discernible only by me and yet visceral enough it created a psychic tumult necessitating, in the two hours of writing preceding its occurrence, multiple breaks for tears- is a big huge fucking deal.
the book is not done. but there is a book. i know this because i printed it out this morning. and because, when i was leaving the library and the security guard checked all my papers to make sure i'd not stolen any manuscripts, she said to her co-worker, "she's got a book here." and then she said to me, "looks like you're nearing the end... you must be excited."
and i beamed.
there are ALL OF THE EMOTIONS.
ALL OF THEM.
NO EMOTION LEFT BEHIND.
i am thrilled. in awe. completely, utterly, totally bereft.
in the last two weeks, there was a tipping of the scales. 1973 and 1974 were more present than the present. i was more fully alive there than here.
i'm not explaining it well. it was magic. i want to go to back. aware it has just ended, the spell broken, already i look forward to finding that moment in the writing of the next book. where i know i've got it and i'm playing with a full orchestra, all the voices in my head bouncing off one another- mailer and nixon and jackie, all the rumors and lies and stories illuminating things that only, up to now, existed in a part of my brain i'd not imagined.
now, it is the sensation of someone having unexpectedly turned on the lights. i am very squinty.
and thrilled. awed. tired. bereft. ready.