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Weekly Writing Summary For The Week Ending 3/21/2024

Robert John Gibbings: Thanks for Wine (20th century)

The Freedom To Not Quite Notice
I write without an outline, reorienting myself each morning depending on what I created the day before and how I feel in that moment. My intention involves letting the plot-line emerge rather than concocting it beforehand, though this practice guarantees a few inconsistencies. I cannot return to make up a missed day, for my practice depends upon accepting whatever happens. If my laptop crashes and refuses to produce, I have no net to catch me. My iAlogue Series weighed in at only eighty-five stories rather than the usual ninety due to technology failures and some winter ennui, perfectly normal disruptions. My writing practice depends upon an uncertain amount of innocence on my part, a dedicated absence of artifice. I sometimes embarrass myself, but fortunately for me, I rarely notice. One of the joys of naive practice must be the freedom to not quite notice or care when I crash.

Weekly Writing Summary

This first iAlogue of this writing week admits full culpability in producing my recent spate of crashes, perhaps attempting to accomplish the utterly impossible: Uncrashing.
Lucian and Mary Brown: Untitled [close-up of wrecked car after crash] (c. 1950)

"It could well have been worse."

This iAlogue Story finds me
BackingInto my future and my present.
Paul Cezanne: Standing Bather, Seen from the Back (1879-82)

"Nothing better captures both the peril and reward …"

This iAlogue finds me discovering that I appear to have entered the cadre of LittleOldMen. No longer merely a witness to history, I suddenly seem to embody it.
Peter Sheaf Hersey Newell: Old Father William Balancing an Eel, from "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland"(c. 1901)

" … still in the flower of my youth …"

This Fambly Story, the first in a fresh series, finds me introducing myself to my Fambly again: to its language and rhythms, its customs and legends, its heroes and villains. This series will be about my family.
Edgar Degas: Henri Degas and His Niece Lucie Degas (The Artist’s Uncle and Cousin) (1875/76)

“ … Their marriage was long and contentious …”

This Fambly Story provides some DeepBackground. Asking where my family’s from will yield a dizzying number of responses. We’re mongrels!
Robert John Gibbings: Ancient History (20th century)

"I understand who's driving."

I fell into Spring this year. My writing week featured several technology failures, reminders of how dependent I have become on things I clearly do not understand. I missed a writing day because my laptop was in the shop getting its ears lowered and teeth cleaned. I crashed and then Uncrashed, though additional failures continued haunting me up to and including today. I'm not out of those woods. I cobbled together workarounds, which lengthened my daily writing effort without adding much more than additional frustration. I considered these to be dedication tests to determine the depth of my commitment to my craft or my delusion in pursuing it. I caught myself as my mirror never catches me, among a cadre of LittleOldMen, not quite entering my dotage but definitely headed in that general direction. I began a new series of stories, this one, by popular and insistent demand, about my family, my Fambly. I have become my family's historian for this generation, and I understand that this designation cannot become a permanent responsibility. I must write down what I've learned so that someone in the next generation can correct my errors and so our story persists into the future. I ended this writing week by entering DeepBackground and feeling around in my new story space. Thank you for following along despite my technological incompetence.

©2024 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

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