Children have a way of smiling, when they do simple things. Like when Liss puts on sunglasses, every time, she smiles—like it’s the most delightful thing that could happen—putting on sunglasses! Getting out of the car at the beach! Opening a car door in a giant parking lot in Santa Monica! Like that’s the most beautiful thing in the world.. And maybe to her it is. Maybe to her the sand, and the sun, is really all there is.




Winnie: You realize you’ve got a cop chained to the TV. You realize that. You realize you’ve got..a..infant..sleeping with the maid. If she even is the maid! I got a call from Pila earlier—the office got a call—their shark is missing? Somebody knocked out a window at an office next to Sharks..the trading people? Police are coming up to Stephen asking if he knows where you are. There’s a boat missing from the landing!
My Dad stops her: I didn’t have anything to do with any boat.
But Jacobi says: I did.
My dad says: What!?
Jacobi: It’s no big deal. I took this waitress—Candy prob’ly knows ‘er. (Jacobi swirls around his Scotch.) This is a fine piece of ass. I was telling her about my boat and she wanted to know if we could go out on it and I was like—
Dad: Jacobi. You don’t have a boat.
Jacobi: (thinks of saying something more but settles on:) Exactly.

I hate my book today


and it doesn’t matter.  Today, on day 16 of NaNoWriMo, I have a day where I’m not happy with what I wrote.  I don’t feel the way I want about it.

So what.

It doesn’t matter.  Is that the point?  To make myself feel a certain way every day I do this?  No.  The point is to do it.

Colonel Kurtz, in Apocalypse Now, asks: "Have you ever considered any real freedoms? Freedom from the opinions of others..even the opinions of yourself?“

You don’t like what you wrote today?

Who gives a fuck.

Your job is to write it, not to feel any certain way about it.

Free yourself from your own opinions..and revel in pure action.