Getting close to finishing the father stories book. I wrote a final piece, the one I want at the end of the book. It’s entitled Ghost Boxing. As soon as I finished it, I realized that was the better title of the book. It’ll make sense when you read it, I think. I hope.
In March I’m expected in Pittsburgh to present a workshop at a great book store – Penguin Bookshop in Sewickley. We are leaning toward a workshop in how best to get published, and then a reading of Accidental Lessons and some new work. I’ll also be at the Joseph-Beth Booksellers on the city’s Southside neighborhood in late May, and then the New York Book Expo the last week of May, also.
I was thinking the other day after reading an interview of a friend – author Thomas E. Kennedy – in The Writer’s Chronicle about where we write, where art is produced. Tom writes long hand, sits in a special spot in his home in Copenhagen. But he also says he writes “anywhere.” And he does, I’ve seen him pull scraps of paper out of his pockets to write notes on – pieces of overheard conversations, observations. That’s a good habit to get in, by the way. I do it too. But I keep notes in my moleskin notebooks. But the real thing here is where do we work? Where do writers, songwriters, painters, thinkers work? I find myself changing venues all the time…coffee shops, my college office, my home office, my leather chair in the living room, I’ve even written in cars on road trips…someone else driving, of course. I need that switch-a-roo. I can’t write in the same place all the time. There’s something about the change of venue.
I have a sabbatical coming up in 2011 and I’m thinking about heading for some “writer retreats” to work – cabins in the woods, oceanfront cottages, distant coffee shops. But it’s not about inspriation, I find that all over, thankfully. It’s more about that venue, that perfect place. But then again, I’ll likely be there a couple hours and ache to move somewhere else.
Change is good for creative work. Change is marvelous.
Best to all of you.