I woke to jackhammering this morning. Actually, I awoke to the sound of someone dropping a several-hundred pound jackhammer off of a truck, which to the half-asleep mind sounds a lot like a car being dropped from a skyscraper. Then, every car alarm on the block lit up, then the jackhammer. These idiots haver been building a three-unit for at least a year now, working odd hours with leftover material and half-assed labor. It’s pretty much the theme of my neighborhood. There’s a bar on 30th Ave. (right by my place) that has been under construction for a good two years now. And I mean their remodel job is taking that long. I could build a house out of trash and old printouts faster than that.

In good news, I got another set of proofs for Rumored to Exist today, and they look great. I approved them, and the book will now go to the next step of production. That means in about three weeks, you’ll be able to buy it from the publisher, and in about six weeks, Amazon and ilk will have it. It’s 268 pages, which puts it at $15.95. I’m pretty happy with that size and price point, and hopefully that means more of you bastards will buy it and maybe even actually read it.

Incredibly tired - I’ve fallen into the nap-after-work syndrome over the last few days, partially because I’ve had a borderline cold, and I didn’t get any sleep today. If I was smart, I’d go to bed at like ten and wake up early to avoid any potential jackhammer action. But, the Playstation 2 looks so inviting…

I got the first proofs of Rumored to Exist today. Unfortunately, the book block was paginated wrong, and I had to send it back. They put each “section” on a new page, always starting on the right, which meant tons and tons of blank space where it wasn’t supposed to be, and it made the thing read like a corny poetry book. So it’s back for a redesign, which will take a couple of weeks, and then the book will be out maybe six weeks after that. I’m nervous as hell that there will be problems, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

It does feel good to have an ISBN, though. Rumored will now be known as 0-595-23476-3. It’s also weird to see the whole thing in a book manuscript, with real fonts and layout and stuff. The cover also looks very official, with a bar code and everything. The price on this proof was $20.95, but that’s assuming a 384 page count, and this pagination fuck-up will bring it closer to the 300 mark, so maybe the price point will drop. I’d love to see it at or below 20 bucks.

I’m still going through this strange haze of not having the book anymore, and seeing it almost done freaks me out a bit. It’s hard to not have a steady project anymore, and I know I should be pushing The Device, but I haven’t been in the mood yet. I’ve got a lot of little shit to deal with first, so I don’t know when I’ll get moving with this thing.

Speaking of which, I have a couple of vacations coming up. At the end of this month, I will be flying to Las Vegas and then driving to my land in Colorado. The drill is this: a day at the Hacienda hotel just outside of Boulder City (I could not get a reservation on the strip if I arrived on a Saturday), then an all-day drive through the southwest, then four nights in Alamosa, then another hell-drive, then two nights at the Tropicana. The Vegas heat will be bad - I think it’s about 105 there right now. But the Colorado part will be decent, comfortable temperatures. And no, this isn’t the part of Colorado that’s on fire right now.

The second trip will be for my sister’s wedding in the beginning of August. It’s an in-on-Thursday, out-on-Tuesday thing. I haven’t been back to Indiana since I moved to New York, so this will be a first. I’ll be staying with Ray, and I have no idea what the itinerary will be, but it will most likely involve driving back and forth between all of the podunk towns in northern Indiana in which my family is scattered.

Not much else is going on. I have a dozen different books I want to be reading, but I’m currently going through a biography of Howard Hughes. It’s not bad sofar - I’m up to the point where his parents died - but I don’t know enough of his history to tell if it’s accurate or not. I am mesmerized by him though - something about his secretive and bizarre lifestyle makes me want to know more. Or maybe it’s because I like the Monty Burns character on The Simpsons so much.

Listening to the new Tony Levin solo album (Waters of Eden) which actually sounds a lot like a Shadowfax album, so It’s good for writing. I think I need to get out of the house though, go for a late night walk…

Sometimes when I look back at this much of my life in one place, it tends to freak me out.

For example, when I first got a designed, printed, final copy of Summer Rain and I saw and FELT how much the summer of 1992 weighed when it its final form, it made me realize how much could happen in three months. And to this day, I still can’t read the book, because a page or two into it, I start thinking about all of the events that I wasn’t able to capture in words, all of the laziness and intensity and all of the people whose paths I crossed who didn’t fit into that formulaic outline that I followed.

I recently finished my book Rumored to Exist and I’m now in this weird, post-partum funk, trying to figure out what’s next while also thinking that I have until September to figure out a way to sell this damned book when it hits the streets. After I zapped the final draft and other assorted submission form cruft to the publisher last week, I did some quick math and realized I’ve been writing this book for almost seven years. SEVEN YEARS! And this is the first time since before I left Indiana in 1995 that I don’t have a major open project. It’s like the kids have grown up and moved away. (Except I get the occasional $14 royalty check.)

I read a bunch of these old journal entries today, as I contemplated getting everything hooked up and operational again. I realized I really do like my old writing, aside from the strong nostalgia of Seattle it invokes. I really do miss Jet City, but I’m not sure if it’s that I miss the Pacific Northwest, or I miss the experiences of that time in my life. My leisure time and writing career are obviously structured much more differently now in New York, and I can’t say I feel it’s the most productive time of my life. But then, I used to say that back in 1996, and now I wish I could run things like that again.

I shouldn’t say I have no major projects - I actually have a few unfinished books and half-baked ideas. I started writing something for NaNoWriMo last year and got about 30,000 words into it. But I missed the first few days in Vegas, and then I got horribly sick when I got back. Somewhere during the trip to the ER, I decided I should fuck the contest and sleep as much as possible, and there it lay. It’s a bizarre sci-fi tale called The Device, about time-travel and a cross-country roadtrip, and it is partially similar to an older idea with the same name (but no roadtrip) that spawned from Rumored several years ago. So maybe that’s my next big thing.

Food’s here, Wyoming chicken burger from Rainbow Cafe. Hopefully, I’ll update this more, and shake out a few bugs in the site format at some point.

I’m in one of those strangely nostalgic moods that only happens when you combine an extreme olfactory trigger from the past with an old CD that strikes a nerve. I’m burning a candle that smells like 1993 to me, and the CD was Rush - Counterparts. It reminds me of someone from a long time ago that I probably shouldn’t even be thinking of anymore, but I still do.

I was talking to my shrink about this on Friday. I’ve been getting through the emotions and problems of my last couple of relationships, trying to figure out where I went wrong, or if “wrong” is even the right word to use, or whatever. It would be much easier for me to say “my ex is a bitch and it’s all her fault” when I break up with someone, but they usually aren’t at fault, it’s just my reaction to the situation, or I’m at fault, or… well, whatever. The problem is, my last couple of relationships have been very long and involved, and there were many factors involved. These were people that were my friends, lovers, partners, everything, and it’s hard to pick apart the issues about what’s going on when you have so much all wrapped into one package. I don’t know if things would have been different if I never moved to New York, or if my work situation was different, or if I owned a car still, or whatever. It gets confusing fast, and it’s hard to analyze, especially when you’re still in the middle of it.

But way back when, things were different. I had a relationship that only lasted from March to October, but it still haunts me. And it’s because it was so fantasy-like in so many ways, just in the time it happened, how it all went together, how we met. There was no real-world component - it was just pure infatuation, pure fairy-tale. And then we spent the summer apart. And then school started, things wavered a bit, and then it was over.

One of the reasons this is so important to me is that it’s almost mythological. I was depressed as hell, and this innocent little 18 year old wandered into my life like a puppy dog, and we were in love. It ran its course, it hit the ground, and it was over. It was like when they take a brand new car and smash it into a wall. There are no other factors to consider, like tire wear or a drunk driver - it’s just the car and the wall. And that’s what this is, because when it was over, I couldn’t reason with it in any logical matter, or place blame. I was forced to feel loss. And for a guy who has spent his whole life using logic to avoid feeling loss, that’s a major fucking beating.

So here I am, in New York City, 7 years later. I don’t even remember what her voice sounds like. I can barely remember what she looks like. The idea of being close to her - or anybody - seems so remote to me. I’ve been in two relationships that, combined, lasted five times longer than the time I spent with her. Yet it still bugs me. I don’t obsess about her every day - I’ve got enough shit in my life going on. But it seems like I’d be able to forget her and move on with life.

I think part of it is that I think I will somehow repeat what I had with her, but make it all happen right again. I’m convinced that I made a couple of dumb little mistakes, and if I meet her again, the 30-something version of her, and I don’t fuck up, I will have the perfect woman and I’ll do everything right. I think every relationship I’ve had since, every first date and failed encounter has started with some sick fantasy that this woman would be as perfect as her. Not that she was a supermodel or anything - I mean that everything would dovetail nicely; that we would be a nice match and the atomsphere would be incredible and everything else.

It’s silly for me to continue this discussion, because I’m not going to say that wanting something spectacular is a bad thing, and I’m not going to say it’s helping me out, either. I guess that’s the rub. Either I’ll figure this out someday, or I will be in the right place at the right time again.

Not much else. Time to go to bed.

I feel a need to update, even though not a lot’s going on. Saturday afternoon - no plans, a few bucks, and so-so weather. I went out late last night to Kiev, to eat some food that I probably shouldn’t have. I have been passively drifting on some kind of diet thing, but it’s more like I’ve just been feeling more guilty about eating bad, and avoiding snacks. I tried to get on diet Dr. Pepper this week, but my allegiance to The Real Thing is too heavy, and I was back to six Cokes a day by Friday. I’ve also been trying to take more late-night walks through the ‘hood, but it’s been raining all week, and spending an hour and a half walking around is kinking the Rumored to Exist writing schedule.

I haven’t been doing much writing, but I read a lot of Rumored in the last few days, and I still really like it. I can’t wait until it’s 100% and I can start showing it to my friends and stuff, because it is very tripped out and the current draft is very tight. I still have some stuff to fix up, there’s some slop in the language and some of the references are too far out for anyone but me and maybe Ray Miller.

I registered allhailsatan.com this week. It points to my home machine. Not much located there, but maybe later I can use it for some weird project.

Okay, I need to get dressed, catch some lunch, do something cool. I’m thinking of the Strand, but spending money might not be the best idea at this point. We’ll see what goes down.