No Rest for the Whacked

This week has been a tough one, for a reason I haven't faced before. I have no schedule and it's driving me nuts. I wake up when I feel like it (anywhere from 4 am to 8:30 am, so far) and I spend my morning in a blend of web-surfing and leisurely writing. Then we go run some errands and come home. I write some more, we might nap for a while. We have dinner and watch a movie. Then I lay in bed and read until I'm sleepy. This should by idyllic for me, and there are moments when I really enjoy this, but I'm not so good without structure.

I'll need to structure myself for the next three weeks.

I finished reading Thom Jones last night. It was good, but maybe what I got from it that will benefit me most was that a) I write this well, and b) Thom Jones was even older than I am now when he started publishing. The stories all had Vietnam, epilepsy, boxing, and boxer dogs--or some combination of these (with the exception of "I Want to Live!").


Now I'm reading William Kennedy's Very Old Bones. I found a hardcover copy for 99 cents in an Oklahoma City gift shop in May (along with Philip Roth's Operation Shylock), so I almost feel like I'm cheating.