Everything I'm Not Is Everything I Am--Part One (or maybe,...Back Already?!):

So last week I started to work on Tales From the Green Room for the first time. Well, not the first time, I had the introduction already finished. And if you count the time I spent conceiving Green Room, I’ve spent hours on it. In my mind.

But last week marked the first time I’d gone on record to the world and in print saying I’m a writer. This is what I do and this is my stated project. So now I had to actually write it.

To that end, I started on it last Monday morning. I woke up early to create a little structure to my unemployed day. Got my coffee, turned on the computer. Avoided getting sucked into the internet and went right to work on Green Room.

...Yep, right to work. And we’re startinnngggg...

..Now.

...I mean,..now!

...Nope, I mean right...

...

...Oh come on. What’s the problem?

I don’t know, seems like some kind of writer’s block.

'Writer’s block'--what? That’s just a made-up thing. When did you ever have writer’s block?

I don’t know, I’ve got it now.

Bullshit, you’re just lazy.

Well reader, I am kind of lazy; but not about things that matter to me. I actually have a strong, soldierly work ethic when motivated. It’s just that no one in my family’s ever been an artist. Or a writer. My blogs are the most ambitious artistic achievement of any Grdzak that I’m aware of. And there’s a big difference between a 1,000 word blog post and the fleshed-out memoir I envision Green Room to be. So the immensity of the project began to set-in and I wasn’t really confident how or where to start.

If you have to ask yourself how to start you’re gonna be a pretty shitty writer.

Don’t say that.

Its true. It should just be there. It shouldn’t be work at all. If it’s pure it should just flow. Like Wayne would say.

...So writing isn’t work? These great writers don’t take time to contemplate what they’re gonna say? Or how? They just jump right in?

I don’t know.

I don’t know either.

So I thought about it for awhile.

...I think an artist would get high. That’s what Ray Charles would do. You think you’re a better artist than Ray Charles?

Okay, so I proceeded to crumble a bud of weed and vape it; after which I returned to the computer. Only I screwed up ‘cause then I went on You Tube to watch Ray Charles videos which sucked me in for a long time; then I checked my email and went on BBC before going to Monster which really made me upset since I’d promised myself I wasn’t responding to anymore ads and was committing myself to writing Green Room for the next 6 months. That’s supposed to be my life until March of next year.

So when I returned my attention back to writing I was mad that I’d answered that ad and that my buzz had led me down a dead end.

But eventually I got back to business. Settled down. Let the words and ideas flow.

Then I read back what I’d written.

Oh man it was so bad! Laughably bad. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t expect each paragraph to be right-perfect on the first draft. But I soon realized that I wasn’t exactly sure of my direction after my intro. I had about a half-dozen options--all of ‘em great; but the plurality of possibilities left me stuck as opposed to liberated. So my high ass was left in front of the computer with dull eyes and blunted senses 'til well into the afternoon.

You know what? I eventually told myself. Artists are always out and about. Contemplating things. Like Woody in Midnight in Paris or Tolstoy in the Russian woods. You should go for a walk and really think about where you want to go with this. That’s just as important as the writing. No difference really.

So I got out the apartment and went for a walk. A brisk walk as I mumbled to myself. ‘Til eventually I formulated an outline and plan of action, then proceeded to walk home when I was stopped on the street by my bartender Todd.

“Hey Lodo, you gonna watch the game tonight? Tigers are on you know. First drink’s on me.”

Course I can care less about baseball, but I’m emotionally invested in Detroit. All my friends from back home had been calling during the Tigers/Yankees series, and last week it looked like the Tigers could actually go all the way. So I agreed to stop by Todd’s later that night.

I returned home reinvigorated, with plans for the night and some definite ideas for Green Room.

Yet no sooner had I sat down when once again I lost confidence in my direction. I’ve got all the important sections of Green Room down in my head--intro, climax, ending; but now I see the little connecting sections are still vague and in need of proper formulation. So for the second time I was lost at my keyboard.

You know what? I eventually told myself. Artists are always enjoying their free time. That’s why they’re so inspired. I know you’re a hard worker, but you can’t approach this like you're still an insurance investigator. You just have to live and let the story come to you. That’s the way you’ve always done it, so why are you fucking with yourself now?

Right.

I made some dinner then went to Todd’s bar to watch the game. It was a good time despite the Tiger’s loss and I got really, really drunk on free drinks.

Next morning (Tuesday) I didn’t wake up til close to 11:00, and my head was screaming! I poured my coffee like the day before. Diligently. Sat in front my computer with heavy eyelids and clouded vision, as my dehydrated body informed my sour mood. I read back what I'd written the day before, cut about 80% of it, then stared at the one line I really liked for about 20 minutes. Then I said to myself,

Artists sometimes take long breaks from writing when they’re in transition.

They do? Who said that? Wayne? Ray Charles?

I do.


"Sure I was getting high. And naturally I was not denying myself the pleasure of female company. But none of this kept me from working. I always put first things first. On the other hand, smack didn't decrease my productivity or stimulate my creativity. I doubt if anything outside of myself really helped or hurt my music. ...I've never been one of those dudes who got so strung out or fucked up that he didn't know where he was or what he was doing. Grass, booze, heroin--it didn't matter. I never did more than get my buzz. Then back to work."






* NOTE: Due to the length of this post, I'm going to split it into a second part. Part 2 should be here in a few days.

* ADDITIONAL NOTE: Pics of Ray Charles stolen off Google Images. Quote from Ray Charles was taken from Brother Ray by Ray Charles and David Ritz. Probably copyrighted.