26 July 2004


As you know, I also write novels. I do a lot of other things too, but writing and carpentry are therapeutic for me. Anyway, I've written fourteen novels, spy stories and a bit of science fiction. Generally, I write on the average of two a year, sometimes more, sometimes less. The shortest time it took to write one was a month; my juices were flowing. The longest took me about eighteen months. Except for one. This fucking thing has been kicking my ass for five years. I've rewritten it ten times, made about another ten false starts, and I still hate the fucking thing.

So, I've made up my mind. I told you where I'm going on my vacation this year:

This year's trip will be a week in London followed by a trans-Atlantic cruise home aboard the Queen Mary 2. Now, I have to admit, I'm looking forward to the crossing more than I am spending time in London, just because I'd rather veg out on vacation than do the tourist thing. Mrs. F, however, wants to see as much of the world as possible, so this works out perfectly. It will also be the first time I'll be in London sober. I guess I should see some of the landmarks.

And since I'll have six nights and seven days at sea on the newest, biggest passenger liner on the Seven Seas, I decided that I'm gonna start another rewrite of this fucking book that's kicking my ass. I'm gonna do the Hemingway thing, something I never do. I'm gonna write while drinking. I've tried it a couple times, had a couple beers and zipped off a few chapters and I hated it the next day. This time I figured that since I hate everything I've written sober with regard to this book, I might as well try it drunk. I'll have my laptop with me so what the fuck? If I come home with 50 pages of a solid storyline, it'll be a good start. So, I'm resolute. I'm gonna do this . . . unless I get drunk and forget my declaration.

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