Wednesday, June 19, 2019

Pierwalker Log: June 19, 2019

Writing start: 9:18 A.M.
Finish: 3:20 P.M.
Total new words (est.): 400
Edited (est.): 12300

1. Failure: Third primary edit of chapter twenty-six

2. Book Three Melody: Read-through of chapter sixteen

3. Angel: Book Three: Off

4. Random Chance Book Two: 200 new words
Notes: It is difficult not to be intimidated by the scope of this story. The key is to focus only on those things that really matter in it.

5. Port Story: Off till 6/26

6. Hidden Bookmarks: 200 new words
Notes: I've got a pretty good idea where this chapter wants to go.

7. Rumpel: Fourth primary edit of chapter four

8. Zelena (Secondary Edit Two): Part Four

Special Projects: None today

Extra notes: A possible new series to watch: Yellowstone.


Pizza tonight for dinner. Can't wait.


This area is getting crazy with tourists, as it does every summer season. Summer is the least of the seasons around these parts, in my opinion. Fall, winter, and spring offer much more of the real spirit of southwestern Oregon than does summer.

These people come in, they make a big mess, and then they leave. You can almost hear the land exhale with relief every October.


Summer has gone from my favorite season to my least favorite one. My favorite is either spring or fall. Both are wonderful, especially in this part of the world. Winter, though it comes with drenching rain and sometimes bitter cold, is still better than summer by a margin, to my way of thinking. It brings such quiet with its storms. It's a holy quiet, a divine one.


Though I lived in Colorado nearly forty years, I rarely think of it anymore. It's like I never belonged there, though for a very long time I thought I did.

The quiet of the Rocky Mountains is somewhat like the quiet here. But the Rockies have been utterly yuppified and suburbanized by the consumpticans on the eastern plains--Denver and surrounding 'burbs and towns. I hail from Fort Collins, which is sixty miles north. I always thought it would be my home. But the truth is, having been gone from it nearly two decades, it never was. I can see that now.

You imagine when you're a kid how things are going to turn out. Of course, they never do. I was going to be an Olympic swimmer. I was going to find that Special Someone and settle down and raise little kiddies and the works. I was going to get some high-paying job somewhere and on weekends, to echo Joe Walsh, "pick up the dog-doo, and hope that it's hard."

What a fuckin' joke.

Seventeen years ago today I packed up a U-Haul and moved to Imperial Beach, California, to begin a new life, one that consciously eschewed the failed dreams of childhood and set me on a completely clean slate.

Doing such a thing is much scarier than it sounds. In fact, it's so scary that very few actually go through with it. I did.

I can be proud of that, even amidst the myriad failures and backsteps I've taken since. This fight has been worth it. The struggle has been worth it. And the payoffs--well, they have been more than worth it. There is absolutely no-thing and no one back in Colorado that can touch even one of them.

Summer is just about here. I hope yours is restful and peaceful.