A Concise Note on Quotidian Writing and My Attendant Thoughts and Critical Aversion to It 6/03

To speak of quotidian writing, I would say, that, for me at least, it is quite difficult to consistently achieve; especially with regard to fiction. The crafting of even the crappiest fictional story is such that it cannot be done in just one day-often; but not always. I have been able to construct a complete tale at least three times all in one day, but it was usually an excrementally poor vignette. That is the disadvantage of writing daily, especially if you intend to write a new short or long story every day. Thus, if I want to write something daily, and I have not the patience nor diligence requisite to the discharge of proling on the same story or novel day in and day out everyday for months or years, unless of course, it is a very good one-somewhat like my story of the Texan Lemonade Consortium's Executives and their Boardroom Meeting, which was written last year, in the late spring and was inspired in part by a Simply Lemonade commercial I saw on TV; still, my object is to write essays and memoirs, travelogues and descriptions and histories and autobiographies, for they can be done quicker and easier than fiction sometimes. For I hate editing-especially when it is repetitive, as no doubt much of my editing of my stories would have to be. While the nonfictional, essayistic, correspondent, autobiographical, historical, memorial, missive, diaristic, philosophical, satirical, honest, frank, candid, conjectural, anecdotal, circumstantial, evidentiary, confessional, political, social writings and commentaries that I would make are relevant to me, they are hardly storied, as a canonical and storied as I would like them to be. For a time, even last year, one of my most productive literary years, even if most of what was written by me during that time was patently nonfictional and essayistic, I even indulged in the writing of poetry and plays...but most even now, especially of the monologues, coloquies and plays, are incomplete. Why? I have no discipline nor time for the thing that I love most: writing. Thus, have I only submitted one complete story to a magazine out of all of the many hundreds I have written (almost all incomplete) in five or ten years or so..and though it should not have been, given it's inchoate originality and newness of form and function, it was declined, rejected, returned...doubtless unread. Not that it would have been any great boon, you understand, to have some cynical, unartistic, corpulent, bespectacled, affluent, cigar-smoking, odorous, odious editor read it anyway. So, thus, even on here, I suppose most of my writings if discharged on a diurnal foundation, will have to be, and will in fact be, autobiographical, essayistic, philosophical, dialectic, critical, satirical and otherwise nonfictional. I hope no one has a problem with this particular future bent of my writings hereon. I don't see why any of you would, considering it would seem to be pretty goddamn evident that none of you read any of my notes anyway. After all, do I ever notice, read or receive any comments on any of these? But if anyone has a certain interest that is correspondent to my own and that they would like to have me write about, merely tell me, and if I like it, I will write at some length and with some honesty and depth of feeling about it. But for now, as austral winds blow and boreal tides are driven backwards into the primordial tundra, even as that is so, so must I go. ( Using poetic language is fun...don't you think?)