brothercyst: BIRTHDAY

Monday, January 25, 2010


Birthday yesterday.  Haven't had time lately to do very much; preparing for my long Los Angeles vacation.  Warm weather to come, thank god.

Not long ago I briefly considered 2009 in the light of the new year's arrival.  As I turned 27, I considered the year I was 26:
  • Creative life as a 26-year-old:  Super good.  Wrote a lot, including several things I'm pretty thrilled with.
  • Professional life as a 26-year-old:  Mostly bad.  I did publish Midnight Picnic, but that was at the very beginning, and after that everything was shit.  I didn't submit much short work so there were few small publications to maintain my sense of self-worth -- though interviews with Park Chan-wook, Michael Haneke, & Francis Ford Coppola were awesome.  But that's writing about someone else to build credit and get cash, despite the fact that all three men are heroes of mine and I would leap at the chance to talk to them in a non-formal-interview context.
  • "Professional" life as a 26-year-old: Full of exciting transitions.  Laid off from the comfortable but tepid/menial office job I'd had for almost exactly four years, since I graduated college.  The managing director of my department had also been hired directly out of college, two decades earlier.  He'd wanted to be a novelist but had come to love the company instead. 
My birthday was good.  I never have a party or celebrate.  Went to lunch & movie with ASB.  Had some sort of freakout during the movie, huddling with eyes closed in a psychic swamp of shame and despair, thinking that 27 was going to be the worst year, unbearable, full of disappointment and mortification. Recovered & finished the movie, then watched Mad Men dvds and went to sleep.

Anyway.  I just bought My Work Is Not Yet Done, and I can't wait to read it.  Bought Down and Out on Murder Mile and can't wait to read that.  I liked Digging the VeinTrying to get some copies of Fires that still exist, as it may not be available on Amazon (or anywhere?) much longer. 

I am aching to travel.  I want so badly to be back in a tropical place somewhere, or somewhere without a lot of people and without distractions or appointments to be kept.  I want to be in a place where I do three things: read, write & eat.

Actually, that sounds a lot like prison.  Let me add two more things: Surf & be around women.

Unrelated: No more griping about split infinitives ever, please.  They're allowed.


Ken Baumann said...

Happy Birthday!

Looking forward to your LA arrival.

N A said...

thanks man. we'll hang out.

pb said...

Happy Birthday Nick. I am soooo with you on not wanting to be in NYC. Down and Out on Murder Mile is fucking great- you'll love it.