Well so much for the tumblr that looks like a page. I do want the “page,” it’s true, but I just couldn’t get behind the aesthetics of the new look. Something was wrong. I feel agitated when it’s wrong; it’s why I can’t write sometimes when my house is messy. It’s still not right, but it’s less wrong, and I don’t think I can justify to myself paying for a tumblr design that I actually like. I will keep going like this for a little while.
The novel/la continues to be difficult. But it certainly is empty, and isn’t that certainly what I want? I keep coming back to wanting to write about Lispector’s The Apple in the Dark WITH Duras’ The Ravishing of Lol Stein. For about a year now I have had those two novels in the same space. It’s not that I think they are the same or that they should occupy something together, it’s just that I keep wanting to occupy something with them, and at the same time. I go away, and then I come right back. I want to write about writing, too, this much seems clear, but I keep trying to abandon that as well.
I feel hugely influenced by books like Renee Gladman’s To After That (TOAF) and Lydia Davis’ The End of the Story in their meta-fictioness, in their ways of being in relationship to writing and to some kind of life at the same time. I feel the same towards Kate Zambreno’s Heroines, in the ways in which it takes up literary figures, and then the author’s life comes into relation to those figures too. These three books have opened up for me possibilities for what a novel can be, what it can look like. Though I’m not sure Gladman considers TOAF to be a novel, and Heroines is officially nonfiction (though Zambreno has said that in some ways she is writing in a space of fiction and nonfiction alike), I feel close to what they are doing, and prose or fiction or nonfiction, it doesn’t really matter. What do BOOKS do?
So, it’s an imaginary France-Brazil and it’s an imaginary Los Angeles. This is where my new project has been heading. When I give into it the project gets easier.