I’ve been told to write everyday over the summer. Okay, challenge accepted. Classes have been over for about a week and I’ve already written thirty pages of crap. Not bad crap; I’ve gotten pretty good at polishing turds if I do say so myself, but it’s not as hard as marble or even as hard as a rock yet.
My Mac is screwed up. Now that classes are over I’m going to take it to the Apple Store and see what they can do for it. In the meantime, I’ve started writing with a pen and paper. Normally, writing in notebooks hinders me. I don’t like to not be able to go back. I know I shouldn’t go back, but I have to polish my turds about ten times before they get as hard as rocks, so going back is really important for me. With no dependable computer, I’ve had to do what I’ve had to do. Instead of buying a traditional notebook, though, I got one of these.
With this new (to me) fifteen dollar technology, a cross between a notebook and a binder, I’m able to file shit, move shit, add shit, and rewrite shit. It’s pretty awesome. I learned something very valuable to know since I’ve started using this; my handwriting sucks. It’s getting better.
I’m still not finished with The Goldfinch. I’ve gotten through the first chapter. I didn’t care for it until I got past the first two sections. I’m wondering why those weren’t cut, but I suppose it’s too early in the text to judge completely. I’ve also acquired a copy of The Snow Child, the 2013 Pulitzer Prize runner-up. I’m going to read it next.
I’m taking another creative writing class this fall. I was waiting to be done with my current professor this semester before I read his work, but I opted to take the next class with the same professor, and I don’t know why but there’s just something weird about reading your professor’s fiction while you’re in their class. I was going to try to find a physical copy that wasn’t fifty bucks and read it over the summer, but knowing I have him next semester is throwing off these little red flags. I don’t think I should read it until after next semester now, unless he were to assign it or something. So instead, I ordered a copy of Hurry Please I Want To Know, by Paul Griner who is another professor at the University of Louisville, one who I’ve not had yet. I may take his class sometime after the fall semester if I can squeeze it into my carefully planned, overly complicated, apparently-four-more-before-I’m-done-because-of-transfer-issues semesters. I’ve had the book for about a week. I’ve only managed to get through the first two stories so far, because I’m supposed to be boxing up stuff to move back to Danville for a month or two. My progress on that has been pretty minimal. I’m a bit unsure what will happen communications wise when I leave Louisville. There’s no internet access at the house I’m going to, and I’m jobless until I get back to UofL, because no one wants to hire someone just for a month or two. I’m going to use my time to just write. Maybe I’ll at least get one good short story out of the pages I turn out this summer. With no boyfriend or hot guys to distract me, I should also be able to get my summer reading done. My goal is to at least get done with The Goldfinch because I’ve been supposedly reading it for far too long, and In Our Time was assigned for a class in the fall. It’s short enough; I might as well read it now.
My summer reading. pic.twitter.com/3mR72mGW56
— Eric Howard (@EricIntroverted) May 5, 2015
Hopefully I can scrape up ten bucks a month to keep the hosting for this blog going. I’m not exactly sure when, but you’ll see me around. You know, eventually.
Eric Shay Howard