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30 August 2021

 Song mood: Freaking Out on the Interstate by Briston Maroney.

Yesterday was my grandmother’s birthday.  She died when I was thirteen of liver disease.  I think.  On her last birthday, I experienced dejavu.  I was messing around the porch with some cousins, I ran over the edge and flipped over wooden rails. I landed solidly on my back and lost my breath.  But I had seen things.  I saw my grandmother being helped into the car.  As I got up, my grandmother left my uncle’s house and was helped into the car.

Today was Mary Shelley’s birthday.  Frankenstein still has to be one of my favorite novels.  I am curious if there is a difference between the 1818 text or the later edition that is commonly used today.  They say that Victor Frankenstien in the earlier edition can see that he is the cause of his problems where as in the later edition, he is a victim of the circumstances.


Tonight, I made myself write 300 words in my Inspector Trevor novel.  I started on the murder scene going through the point of view of the victim.  The crime takes place in Islington, which, I think is one of the rougher parts of London.  I look up places in London, to see when they were established.  Just like the other night I discovered that a pint of bitter in 1957 London would have cost about 2 shillings.  Figuring out money before 1971 in England is a pain.  In 1971, England switched over to the decimal system.  And then it was pounds and pence.


Goal for tomorrow, write 300 words in my Inspector Trevor novel.  Read about twenty pages in Georges Simenon’s The Hand.  Brainstorm the next crime novel I’ll write, which may be two lovers getting away with murder or a horror film director and an obsessed fan.  Learn a movement in my eight form Tai Chi.

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