Category: my old journal
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A visit with my younger self: 23 October 1998
Another stunning display of youthful insipidness masquerading as depth this week. When I interpret someone’s actions, I tend to interpret them in the manner most favorable to me. Does this apply to literature? Perhaps a story is here to be found (BusSongs?). I do wonder if there was something in my life that triggered this…
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A visit with my younger self: 11 October 1998
A brief entry, inspired by a story told in the dorm lounge by a classmate: I think I might like to write a setina about getting high in the desert at night. I still have somewhere the legal pad with the half-finished sestina and all the end-words arranged. I think it could actually be a…
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A visit with my younger self: 20 September 1998
I still had some plans for my epic poem about the selection of the mayor of Chicago at this point, apparently: For “the king is dead”: white selects its kingly candidate with a poker game (seven card stud, no doubt). [illegible] Theͯ déck iͯs cút, men círcleͯ aͯroúnd.Fiͯftý-twͯo cárds [illegible] foͯr thé choͯice óf a…
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A visit with my younger self: 13 September 1988
Take one young would-be writer, full of himself, who has never undergone any sort of creative writing instruction to speak of, let alone workshop with a professor who not only allows abuse in the workshop, but perpetrates some of it himself and you get some seriously hurt feelings. Well, I’ve undergone the first real criticism of…
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A visit with my younger self: 7 September 1988
The fall of 1988, I enrolled in the only creative writing class I ever took until I started grad school. The class, under the direction of Robert Mezey, focused on writing metric verse. This entry is apparently one of my attempts. The waxen complexion gazes from its berth— A former | person, | bathed |…
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A visit with my younger self: 6 September 1988
The fact that I face it alone makes the pain that much more unbearable. The dream is almost always the same: the general premise is that I meet Beth in some unexpected place and find that something has happened that will permit us to be together. Sometimes we make love. Sometimes I find myself dragged…
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A visit with my younger self: 21 August 1988
My stay in Montréal continues. I was still at the auberge at this point in the trip. Montréal is the city where Groucho losdt his virginity. Montréal is also the city where Don Hosek was asked for instructions on the subway. I don’t know, maybe I look helpful. Last night I met three French-speaking girls at…
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A visit with my younger self: 20 August 1988
At the end of the summer of 1988, UIC where I was working, paid for me to go to the TeX Users Group conference in Montréal. This was my first time traveling alone and, as an added bonus, leaving the country as well, back in an era when it was possible to visit Canada without…
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A visit with my younger self: 14 August 1988
My summer is coming to a close with thie entry in my journal: Fragment: Girl riding (driving?) car looks into the car next to her—there a young boy gives her some sort of lusty look. She turns away embarrassed. Idea for story: the lies people tell about themselves and what they reveal about their personalities,…