Adam Gnade

Slept until two today. Woke up. Picked blackberries. Walked to the Chinese store. Then sat down to work on the book. New writing room is paying off. Six solid hours of good work. Finished the Tijuana chapter, then went down into the basement and recorded some fucking folk songs and noise jams. Made the next few hours drinking with Jamey and slacking-off feel earned, or at least warranted. Tomorrow I’m hoping for the same. This book needs to be done and I need to give it the hours it deserves. I’ve done a few things like this before but none of them have taken this much work. I think I had a hunch it would need to be full immersion before I went into it, but I had no idea how far it would go. This is good, but it’s a consuming motherfucker.

Did I tell you that today I’m not afraid to die?

Past 1am now. Pitch black outside and dead silent. Eighty degrees. Summer isn’t going down without a fight. This was a decent Monday. A Monday like a warrior. Like a Spanish galleon opening all its cannons onto the port.

Time to go listen to Lou Reed and stop thinking about stupid bullshit.

-Adam

PS. This is one of the things I see in the writing room when I’m sitting down and facing the window. The ol’ Sonofabitch saying, “Look asshole, no matter what the fuck you think you are, you are nothing until you prove you’re something.” Tonight I think I believe him.