Author’s Note

10 Sep

Typing on my flattened out keyboard. Broke the struts punching it. Or the strut, singular. The one that was left. I did this because Microsoft Word was “justifying” margins on the last line of a piece in my putative next book. Broke the other strut from some formatting fuckup in my last book. You start with Createspace’s Microsoft Word 5.5 by 8.5 template. Cut/ paste from your web site. Whatever bits of Createspace’s aesthetic vision you disagree with, edit once. Define your font and layout as a style. Everything you paste should be in that style. Easy.

It’s not. There are no rules. At first you paste and it works. Then no. Some disease gets in there. Every new piece, same problem. Can’t mandate separation of sentences within paragraphs across pages, within your style. Can’t insist that the last sentence of a paragraph not be justified. AKA don’t spread three words across the whole page. No mile of white space between letters. Can’t say “do this every time,” within a style. Must do it manually. Home tab. Paragraph ribbon. Line and Page Breaks. Each piece. A hundred pieces. It used to just do it.

Once it fucks up it fucks up every time. Even if you Control-Z, un-paste, cut off the hand that sinned. Must now manually fix every piece. Manually uncheck “keep lines together” so paragraph breaks don’t leave a yawning gulf of white THX-1138 prison space. By the end you’re applying ten fixes by hand. You can’t forget one, once, ever, hundreds of pages. It’ll pop out like an enemy fire on a hillside in the black night. Ruin the book. They’ll all know you’re stupid. Dump ice water on your cock. Post film of it shrunken on the Jumbotron.

There’s a trick to putting books together. Do it quick enough that you don’t know your writing sucks. Too late. Even this bitch about Word formatting– you’ve done it. You’re out of ideas. You’re a 41 year old male secretary who pays girls to touch him. If you stay alive you might get to date age appropriate career women. Cast your seed on the pitiless stones. Craft your life around the shit breath dog she lets in the room while you fuck leering in the eyes of death.

The Pussy is not a good book. It contains 1/10th of a good book. Hot Naked Tits, 1/10th of a good book. Now I have another 1/10th. Five year’s work, 3/10th’s of a good book. To make poverty money I’d need two good books a year to sell ten times as much as The Pussy. This one was to have shit out I’d taken down to keep my real job. But it isn’t good. People like me but they’re wrong.

Writing is hard. But it’s the only valid art form. You get better when you get old. Not like the movies– $10 million in cameras; herd a bunch of weird pretty cretins around while the light fails and you lose your shot. As Mamet says, lovingly swabbing down the warty helmet of MasterCard Multinational Financial Services Corporation with his greedy old tongue, in an ad that Facebook knows to autoplay every god damn time I log in to see who’s in love, having kids, successful– AKA not me– as the esteemed dramaturge intones in his Principal McVicker voice, in the ad Facebook knows to play because I’m a “writer”: more gold… need… more… reptilian gold...

Wait– that’s not a MasterCard ad. Sorry David. What he says is: I brought my pencil. Gimme somethin’ to write on, man. He’s right.

The good news is you don’t need anything. Just decades of unsparing agony that feel like millennia. The bad news: it’s the least valued skill in the world. Whatever was left, sucked out by white people paying black people 1/100th of a cent a word to make other white people feel bad. Sponsored by MasterCard. There are no good living American writers. Someone should remedy this. I’m trying but I also have a real job.

Other good news: Gogol and fucking Catullus still sound like they have a microphone in your head. Hundreds, thousands of years later. Across half the planet. The comedians around them may have had better lives. The musicians, the actors, such as… such as… exactly. Say what you will about David Foster Wallace. He’s dead but the motherfucker’s still with us. Cuffing his own hands so he won’t yank off the noose. It’s those clever details you remember.

23 Responses to “Author’s Note”

  1. Valid art form my ass September 10, 2017 at 1:42 pm #

    “Writing is hard. But it’s the only valid art form.”

    You sanctimonious sack of shit. You ever try to sculpt anything good out of marble? Didn’t think so.

    Also, what’s your problem with dogs? Yeah, your cat got loose and a pit bull ate it. You’re like a whiny, emasculated white guy who sees one white woman get raped by a black guy and then hates all black people forever. You shouldn’t have let your cat out roaming around an apartment complex with pit bulls running around. Just like that white girl shouldn’t have shown up at the black club at midnight on a Saturday night wearing a bikini top, Daisy Dukes, and clear heels unless she was ready to get gangbanged with an umbrella shoved up Gee pussy by a pack of wild animals.

    • Anonymous A-hole September 11, 2017 at 5:13 pm #

      Yeah, that line rubbed my rhubarb the wrong way too but if we’re honest then we have to admit that most visual art is just interior decorating and moreover art itself is generally a pointless endeavor. Artists tend be insufferable, narcissistic ninnies that you really can’t depend on for anything of practical value. It’s only because our civilization is so decadent that “artist” can even be thought of as an occupation unto itself. “I shall be an artist!” “Great. You shall starve to death.”

      You’re also reading far too much into the barely even incidental dog comment. Dogs lick their asses, thus they have shit breath. Attention to detail is a writer’s stock in trade, dontcha know?

      What we ought to be more concerned with is this:

      “If you stay alive you might get to date age appropriate career women. ”

      I wasn’t able to suspend my disbelief after that, even if it was only a halfhearted, bleak prognostication. Age appropriate career women are not going to date 41 year old male secretaries. How would they justify that to their friends, parents? “I know he doesn’t make much money and his earnings potential is totally maxed out, but he has a good heart and he dicks me down in the right way.”

      HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

      Not funny.

    • Bonnes Tacos September 20, 2017 at 2:56 am #

      Dogs, huh? Wow, now I want some Korean.

  2. Jeff September 10, 2017 at 2:10 pm #

    copy/paste into notepad, then copy/paste from there into word.

  3. red domino September 10, 2017 at 2:28 pm #

    “Hundreds, thousands of years later.”

    That isn’t as long as it sounds. Our sense of time hasn’t caught up to the discovery that life on Earth is closer to 4 billion than 6000 years old, and even human life is tens or hundreds of thousands of years old. Recorded history is only about 40 or 50 human lifespans long. It all happened yesterday. Civilization is an infant still learning to walk.

  4. TransMillennium September 10, 2017 at 4:10 pm #

    I would’nt hate to see some of your protected posts.

  5. Small September 12, 2017 at 1:09 pm #

    Thanks for this. 🙂 cheered me right up somehow.

  6. Von Winkelstein September 13, 2017 at 11:40 pm #

    Why won’t any of you put DT out of this self-ascribed misery? DUDE GOOD WRITING IS AT LEAST 50% TALENT. You don’t have it. Come on, even living in LA and having become totally delusional, you have to at least suspect this. Plus, missing other creative bits. Your life is boring but you’re not really able to write outside of it. So either do something interesting (leave fucking LA) or start writing some even slightly interesting fiction or whatever. Every post is mewling about your same exact boring life, hoping for a bit of validation from an ever smaller circle of supportive jerk-offs (no offense to the jerk-offs). Get a grip dude. Change direction. Stop being Martyr McMisunderstoodArtist to an audience of 10.

    • whut September 15, 2017 at 10:42 am #

      no, go the opposite direction. quit the job, move out of your rental, and live among the Travelers of la. when you get too smelly, go do your laundry at your mom’s house. but go be a homeless/traveler. get your workouts in at muscle beach. why not?

      • whut September 15, 2017 at 10:47 am #

        Write on unemployment and food stamps, and then when the unemployment runs out, write on food stamps.

      • Anonymous A-hole September 15, 2017 at 4:04 pm #

        No, no, no you schmeckle. How ’bout DT renames the blog Scrumptious Latkes and goes for that Tribal dollar. Huh? Whaddaya think?

  7. The Empty Subject September 15, 2017 at 11:07 am #

    You still inspire me. Even though I’m no longer living an errant pussy crushing lifestyle. I’m ten years younger than you, broke, in debt and living in a squalid stankpit that should be condemned. It’s encouraging to hear someone you look up to say that you become a better writer as you get older. Keeps me going. And I never expect to make money from writing. I’m at peace with obscurity and poverty.

    • whut September 15, 2017 at 3:43 pm #

      File Chap. 7 bankruptcy, you’ll feel better.

  8. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx September 17, 2017 at 8:32 am #

    I follow you on Twitter. Are you okay?

  9. Small September 18, 2017 at 11:31 am #

    *looks at your Twitter*

    I just meant that I enjoy seeing someone else willing to admit that daily life is fucking horrible. I haven’t seen a (sober) happy person in years, but you can’t complain. It’s the new smoking – only other complainers will hang out with you, and the scent lingers somehow.

  10. Anonymous September 18, 2017 at 2:32 pm #

    Is the new book another collection of stories from the blog?

    • Anonymous September 22, 2017 at 12:44 pm #

      …or rather “the book” book?

  11. Imperium Delirium September 19, 2017 at 10:54 am #

    It never ceases to amaze me how far out of their way some people will go to shit on the people who actually create things. As if every curated, tested, seamless, inspired comfort of modern living they ever enjoyed somehow arose from the same bland, empty, soulless pit of money worship they prioritize over the human soul.

    Misery and its bastard child Art have contributed more to the progress of civilization than any Prozac’d, Ativan’d, Concerta’d automaton could ever dream of shuffling out of their clean, sterile hands.

    The fact that you can knife the gut of these detractors from a thousand miles away speaks truth to your claim that writing is the only valid art form. Being able to piss people off with little to no expenditure on your part (besides the burden of an unfulfilled life, which is practically universal) is power, however slight. Flex it as often as possible.

    • Anonymous A-hole September 22, 2017 at 5:26 am #

      Let’s give this dumb cunt the False Dichotomy of the Year award. Misery and “Muh Art from Muh Heart” *may* have contributed more to the progress of syphillization than the modern day Prozac’d cubecumber, but more than oh, I don’t fucking know, engineering, chemistry, physics, the sack to court to danger and kill for mud? Nice try though, Queerio the Cheerio.

  12. Harold Weltinzger III September 22, 2017 at 10:14 pm #

    Solution: repent and accept the Lord.

    • Anonymous A-hole September 24, 2017 at 8:24 am #

  13. Anonymous September 27, 2017 at 8:03 am #

    Looking at github forks and electronics forums. Slowly my life becomes more about 3.3v level shifting than whether it’s beans on toast tonight or a pot noodle. Dirty laptops, thin layers of dust. It’s human skin, I tell myself: dust is just the word used in polite company.

  14. XTRABEING ZILLIONZ September 29, 2017 at 4:34 pm #

    Hey, Delish. Sorcerygod here. Still planning on helicoptering your flat ass outta L.A. into babeland Toronto. I am deadly serious. Callin’ myself Xtrabeing these days. Final and permanent change for my singing performances days. Wanna be on stage with me?

    REMEMBER I’M EITHER FULL OF SHIT OR THE REAL DEAL. THINK OF ME AS A LOTTERY TICKET TO GIVE YOU MONEY PUSSY A GOOD JOB … MORE. I want you with me. I love your mind. — X. (PS the website isn’t finished yet so don’t embarrass me doubly by checking it out so early. Plus it’s tres mondo arrogant. Well, kinda like me. You’ll see.)

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