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Twenty Lines Saturday, Apr. 13, 2002 - 1:20 am I feel a little guilty about Wednesday's entry, The Mystery. That was cheating. I should be writing a few fresh thoughts every day, instead of recycling old shticks. The whole raison d'�tre of this chronological exercise in self-aggrandizement was inspired by Harry Mathews (who has been a hero of mine ever since I read The Sinking Of The Odradek Stadium). In the preface of his book, 20 Lines A Day, Mathews wrote: "Like many writers, I often find starting the working day a discouraging prospect, one that I spend much energy avoiding. Four years ago I was reminded of an injunction Stendhal gave himself early in life: Vingt lignes par jour, g�nie ou pas (Twenty lines a day, genius or not). Stendhal was thinking about getting a book done. I deliberately mistook his words as a method for overcoming the anxiety of the blank page. Even for a dubious, wary writer, twenty lines seemed a reassuringly obtainable object, especially if they had no connection with a 'serious' project like a novel or an essay. For the next year or so I began many writing days with a stint of at least twenty lines, written about whatever came into my head on a pad reserved for that purpose." A blank page doesn't cause me any anxiety. My problem is the distraction of everything that lies outside the page. You know: life. I always seem to have so much more time to live it than to write about it. The only place in my life where I had enough time to write was in prison, and the novel I started there will remain half-written and dusty until I can bring myself to burn it. (I have a varied collection of embryonic novels, aborted and floating in jars, awaiting dissection, or a flush down the toilet.) Not long ago, I came to the realization that I will need long periods of sustained concentration if I expect to write (and finish writing) a book. It will have to be a full-time job. And there's no way, right now, that I can fit another full-time job into my schedule. But I should be able to squeeze in twenty lines a day, don't you think? last eleven:
Sa r'ji�o oss�vel meninonceiv �o poshik m�'�nch uscantebatahla o�r musiu o�r muiko.
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