Monday, November 14, 2011

(Napa Adventures)
Week 3

The stranger I met in Napa tonight had a fondness for orangutans.

At this moment, my best friend's passed out beside me. The smell of baking cookies pirouettes through the bedroom like an infinite troupe of aromatic  helium balloons, bounding, frolicking. Chocolate. Oatmeal. Caramel. A bottle of a sparkling wine's still bubbling on the night stand.

The stranger who paid our entire bill tonight claimed to be writing an article for some swanky New York mag, comparing wine to women -- or women to wine. Was I research? I didn't mind being paid for, but if I was research. . . . I'm a writer, right? I know how these things can go.

Apparently in his youth, the man learned from his uncle's raising of orangutans, giraffes, peacocks; learned to appreciate his wild side, to honor rather than fear the passionate, rarefied touch of the great grape god.

How this week is all connected is rather swimmy. No writing. There were my first four chapters edited. New encouragements unleashed. New books read. New lives lived. Roads not and gladly taken. The week has spun through a haze, with Dionysus swooping in at every angle, gloating without malice, a small, plump god with florid cheeks puffing away as if sobriety itself were an indignation.

Needless to say, the WIP is suffering a bit. It needs another good round of edits and I haven't quite got there. But next week will be better. I still hope to have WIP edits done by the end of NOV.

And you? Any related, tangential, perpendicular, orthogonal stories!? Tell, tell :) How are your writing goals coming . . . or not coming, as in my case?