Late night writing confession

First, eleven o’clock at night has become late night. Late night used to mean ten-thirty, when it was time for the ABC late night movie. I used to have some idea I’d sleep through the commercials and be able to finish the movie without missing anything. On school nights, of course. I think it had to do with what was playing, but eventually it just became a cool thing to fall asleep watching. Waking up to weird commercials, the later it got. Clearly I’m being a responsible adult with my schedule right now. But reading The Summing Up—albeit slower than I’d like to be reading it—has got me thinking about where I disagree with Maugham. Sure, he’s not considered influential but he was a smart guy and a good writer and The Summing Up talks about a lot of his ideas of writing. And I’m still not even halfway through. He’s showing more personality in the narrative flow, not as quotable statements. He’s getting excited in the writing. His enthusiasm is showing in flourish. And I always am racing to get posts finished these days. So a theme. Late night writing confessions. Kind of like USA Up All Night if they’d hired an Andy Kaufman impersonator. Or, worse, if Gilbert Gottfried had tried it. Like he completely changed his act and it was atrocious. But the confession is an easy one. Not sure why it came up today, but scenery description. I love it. Love writing it. Avoid the living hell out of it. I’m not sure why I love it, probably some sci-fi movie novelization ruined something inside my soul. I don’t like reading it. I like writing it. Like if I could ghostwrite a Pilgrim at Tinker Creek as a freaking Star Wars tie-in, I’d do it. In a second. There’d be research and this and that and it’d be awesome. Described nature. Love it. But not reading it. Just writing it, like I said.

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