I’ll level with the world: I’ve been doing much more photography than writing in the past few weeks. I had an exhibition in Berlin in April, and I’m participating in a series of photography seminars requiring extensive input on my part. More than any one individual event, however, I am currently drawn to photography over writing simply because of the instant result - and gratification - that comes from clicking a button. I can take an entire series of photographs, edit them and upload them to a website - all in the same afternoon if need be. Contrast that with writing, which calls for a months-to-years-long commitment followed by an extremely low chance of the product being published. Of course, any good photographer working on a worthwhile project will also spend months or even years on it, but at least they can see straight away whether the raw material they are working with has potential. Try looking back over the first draft of a chapter without wanting to tear the whole thing into confetti. JUST TRY IT. Perhaps at some point the two formats will balance out my need for results in the short term versus my patience when it comes to crafting a hefty slab of art over an extended period. I’m not holding out too much hope, though.
In news: I mentioned being part of the writing team for a sci fi TV series late last year. Could be that we have a production house on board. Let’s see. Elsewhere…not much. Two rejections for short stories that spent months in the wilderness. I absolutely need to start blanket-applying to magazines again, not just one per year. Otherwise there ain’t gonna be any new Grant Price gold to pay off the masses with.
Book of the month: The Presidents: 250 Years of American Political Leadership. I am finally nearing the end of this behemoth. Two things stand out. One: it’s pretty sad how little I remember about the individual presidents, even down to their names. I foolishly tried the ‘Name the US Presidents’ quiz on Sporcle and did only marginally better than before I’d read the book. Still, I’ll never forget the name Millard Fillmore. He’ll live on in my brain forever. Two: It seems that the US grew up virtually overnight at some point between the end of the 19th century and the beginning of the 20th. For the longest time the country was happy being led by men who were born in log cabins, had zero education and no aspirations to become president. It’s remarkable how many of them were added to the list of nominees as a wildcard or due to an impasse between liberals and conservatives in their efforts to find a suitable party candidate. Then, suddenly, every president from William Taft onwards had to have attended Yale or Harvard and needed to possess a shrewd political mind or a cult of personality or a glittering military background to stand a chance of landing the most coveted leadership prize of all. It’s amazing to read that 25th president William McKinley spent his early adult years as a postal clerk. Definitely a worthwhile read, if a little repetitive.
Album of the month: Knocknarea by Maruja. Jazz-inflected, baleful sign-of-the-times post-rock. I’m not sure where this came from or who the band is, but the timing is perfect given the presence of that ominous black cloud on the horizon that is blocking out everything behind it and is casting the longest shadow over the earth. Yeah, that one. It also has a GY!BE-style cover that’s cooler than anything GY!BE has ever actually released.
Croonable tunes for the afternoon:
1 George Michael - Fastlove, Pt. 1
2 Angel Olsen - Nothing’s Free
4 Madonna - Nothing Really Matters
