I was thinking as I worked tonight of Michael Chabon, whom I had the pleasure of hearing some weeks ago when he did a reading from Summerland at the University Book Store. He looks exactly like I'd imagined he would, somewhat scruffy, sort of long-haired-ish, with a pleasantly pot-smoking face. His voice I thought was a bit like Kevin McDonald crossed with the Master. Amongst the many interesting things he said, including that he was working on a draft screenplay for the next Spider-Man movie, that he had never had a real job, that green slime would start to form on every surface including human skin during the winters when he lived on Vashon Island, and that he included so many powerful gay characters in his novels because he'd known so many lovely and interesting and compelling gay people in his life, was that he did all of his writerly work late at night. I seem to be getting into that habit myself. Also, and this is really odd, the last few nights I've been composing everything on my computer as I typed it. The first day, I wrote it out longhand in my notebook first. Usually I work that way, writing it out in pencil, only typing it up to revise afterwards. Yet when I tried that tonight, it just didn't work. I'm such a technology whore. And I'm 1/7 of the way done. And I still don't have a plot, but that isn't stopping me. I'm an animal. Ook.


Today's wordgasm: 7629

Today's draft: 20021113