At Shoulder’s house. Not a bad drive down – (washing the dogs right before the ferry (I had to – they stank) put some time pressure on me – but I made the ferry anyway. Shoulders looks different – has a moustache. Talks about needing a roommate – does he mean me? He doesn’t know where yet and I don’t want to live with him. His constant string of ignorant pickups would eventually get me down.
He doesn’t mention Ryder and I don’t look up his TV show.
Promising stuff in the classifieds – a garden apt in Landover, a townhouse in Dale City, sharing a house in Kensington. Took the dogs on the old walk – they remembered the route. Huge construction at my old house.
L’Escargot closed.
5 PM Sept 9
Kensington House hopeless. You have to join some
kind of food co-op that’s like a cult religion and there’s a huge emphasis on kitchen and cooking duties. They all eat together. Seems like the worst of college and boarding school to me. I’m now sitting in a real estate office which is really a garage waiting for a guy who’s already an hour late. He’ll be here in 10 mins they say, then he’s going away for 2 weeks so I hope he will want to close the deal tonight, It’s described as an old apartment, high ceilings, fireplace. $210 a month. So I’m just praying the neighborhood’s not too bad.
7:00 PM
Bleak. Too bleak. Tried to imagine myself doing my
exercises on that floor, standing in that kitchen waiting for water to boil, etc. Couldn’t manage. Feeling very stressed. Do I even want to live in this city? It’s just that I know I can easily make a living if the
book doesn’t take off. Went to the library and loaded up on Agatha Christies to help handle the strain. It works. Maybe I need to get a shag haircut and spend the winter in Spain. Now why don’t I do that, other than the obvious reason I can’t afford it and have already missed my dogs as much as I ever want to. Another guy says he has half of a house I might want. With a fenced in yard.
8:15 AM Wed 14 September – Powder Mill Road
Drinking coffee in my own kitchen from the mug that
was my present to myself last morning on the island. The guy is
selling this house as a rental property and was amazingly cavalier –
needed a tenant – didn’t look up my refs or demand cosigner.
Absolutely cool when I described myself as a ”writer” so “dancer”
remains beneath the radar. (Dad would say that proves I know
dancing’s “bad”! I refuse to be unsafe just to convince my own father I’m respect-worthy.)
Yesterday very full day. Got up at 8 and moved
the dogs to their fenced in yard. Fetched the truck, loaded and
unloaded with Shoulders’ help – bookcases, boxes, mattress,
desk, sofa – had truck back by 3. A thousand robins on the weed-grown lawn. I wonder how long I will be looking at this peaceful green view.
8:30 AM Thurs Sept 151977
Up early spending the last of my money on necessaries – hardware, lampshades, contact paper.
Fri 16 September1977
My books arrived at Larry’s! I spent the morning sending them out. Then drove to the Landover Mall, bought two g-strings and pasties and off to the Plush Palace. Steve was there – (Randy the bouncer just hired) thrilled to see me.
Wanted to know where I’d been but I turned that easily away. Vacay! Who wouldn’t! Told me to come to work Saturday night and they’d give me my schedule. So that’s settled. I don’t like trying to live without money. Took the landlord my paint color selection – he buys the paint and I do the work. Probably will take me the next week. Every now and then am attacked by that claustrophobic feeling of restlessness and purposelessness but I am able to keep it at philosophical bay. Working at my poem index made me feel strong and soothed.
Called Chloe to see if I can get on the radio – she was excited to hear from me, but unfortunately gave Erika the Pest my number. Erika called – I was nervous that she wanted me to rewrite her manuscripts, but she just invited me to breakfast. After that she has another appointment so she can’t swallow up my day. Letter from Avril saying she is coming end of Oct.
10:15 PM Sat 17 Sept 77 – The Plush Palace, Alexandria Virginia
Ego lift. Nothing’s changed. I’m still the best dancer in the place. Four dancers on and I know two of them. The gossip, the Costume exchange, the curling irons, the dope in the dressing room – it’s all coming back to me. They’ve introduced some weird rules, like customers get to play the music, but it’s still a fun and relaxed place to be. Steve the floor manager says I can have all the work I want so I might be able to put money away.
Sun 18 Sept 77
Opal comes to over to say “hi” but really to complain about her incipient divorce. Not the best company. Not the best climate for me either – I found myself sobbing over Ryder (fortunately was alone by then). Why does it seem a lost paradise? So I can still get into that sort of mood.
Nice phone call with Mom and dad, not too pressured. They are coming to a boatyard in Annapolis to look at a boat – will see me then. One of the best things about this house is the month-to month lease. Feel I can leave any time but if I behave well they won’t kick me out. Gorgeous location but forty-five minute highway commute to The Plush Palace. Still wish I couldlive in Virginia.
Wed AM 20 Sept77Sent out a ton of poems. Replied to a woman who wants pieces for an anthology. Got a beautiful love-letter from Devon! His usual length – both sides of one page. Talked about how much fun we had in August, dressing up and going out and “afterwards…!” Made me smile. I said to hell with money and called Avril because I wanted to share – Mason is not there during the day. She is in a bad place. Providential I called. He has taken to staying out at night without explanation – she is frantic. Thank God she is coming here. I told Randy since I’m your best dancer, how about a raise. He gave me one! Only flaw to this house – they need to fix hot water. I had to heat water to wash my hair. Bought 2 more costumes bringing my total up to six – the bare minimum I’d say
Devon and I went for a long walk today, had a great
talk. He told me all about his passionate relationship with
English girl – asking “Do you really want to know?” I did – I managed to
be very hands off. Said he’d written her “lyrical love-letters” and
she is saving money to come to US at Christmas.
Bit of a downer to find other people have split
minds like me. I told him a little about Ryder and even more about my husband. I had to hope he wouldn’t see it “retaliation” for what he’d told me. (R would have.) Fantasies can be ugly if they prevent you from experiencing reality.
We hugged – he left – I know he thinks I’m too
“intense”. I was stupid enough to read him my peach poem. On
the other hand, if a guy can’t handle my poetry where am I? R only likes poems he knows are about him.
Wrote a whiny letter to Avril (who usually can handle
whiny letters). Good today – bike, swimming, plus my walk with D. Long letter to Mom and Dad.
Reading Stella Gibbons’ Cold Comfort Farm –
can’t stay grumpy – laughing too hard. Settling into my spaceship –
my own body – first day of the rest of my life. Listening to wonderfully crazy modern opera on the radio.
Sun 24 July 77
4PM
Wrote 4 pages of A Demon Roused. Horribly
dissatisfied. Patricia Highsmith on the suspense novel no damn
help at all. Everything I’ve ever written pure dunder written by a
dunderhead. Restrained myself from calling Ryder to yell at him.
Face facts. Left DC June 4. This coming
month has to be gotten through. Feel I my “breakdown” I suffered last spring was a crisis of identity. Attacked by the writing thing
(no money, no approval, no relationships) attacked by the relationship thing (R too critical, wanting to “change” me.) Starving myself. Long mad midnight walks rampaging thru Chevy Chase with dogs. The ENDLESS Devon situation only explicable when seen in this light.
(He’s TOO good looking – too much fantasy.)
Now about my book. New beginning ALL wrong and
I couldn’t figure out why. The characters seem alive.
First Person Difficult. My husband always said
omniscient narrator no longer possible, making
me want to do it. However, I have to admit you
need to be somebody – an extra character and that’s a
bigger pain in the neck.
2) Scene Problematic. I’ve GOT to get these people out of England.
It’s artificial. How about if I don’t say where it is? Will the specificity cops come after me?
3) Format (Suspense novel) rough because I have to be
the one who knows what’s going on and I want to write my first draft in a narcoleptic state. Means I have to be happy making a huge ness with a million
false starts and then write the thing ALL OVER when I know what’s going on.
But I feel time running out on me. Goddam it.
I should be happy to explore. Why all this pressure? Two novels unaccepted, why write a fourth? Am I deliberately trying to drive myself to the
brink of insanity? Also I HATE Sunday because the pool is packed, no stores are open, and there’s no mail.
Devon and his roommates Blair & Brian drop by and I
struggle to appear sane. Hard for me.
6PM
Called R. to yell at him. He wasn’t there – thank GOD.
Maybe I just want to punish him. He certainly deserves it.
1:30 PM Mon 25 July 77
Dark night of the soul finally over. Very athletic today –
feel deliciously tired. Decide I should go back to Washington no
matter what. My choices are my choices. My happiness can’t be dependent on how people treat me. I plan to use my time to become powerful – to be the person I’m supposed to be. In the drugstore line I was reading up on the showbiz personalities – nobody interesting before 30 and I have a few years yet.
Forget about weight – just follow & learn to love
“virtuous routine”. (I’m a size seven – that’s pretty good.) Today it
POURED rain – night baseball Devon wanted to attend out of the
question. He suggested we switch to a movie when he called this am.
Still feel stilted with him unfortunately.
Assault on library. Planning to ransack the place.
Leafed through Helen Hayes (poor woman); enjoying Thurber’s
My World and Welcome To It .
Tues. 26 July 77 9:40 AM
Sitting on stonewall in full sunlight in my black bikini
waiting for pool to open. Swim and sunbathe till ll:30 when mail comes.
After 7 pm I can return – that way I miss the crowds.
Exercise, coffee, 3 glasses water. The Regime.
I’m down to $4. Embarrassing to be taken out last night
by Devon & his roommates. (We saw Star Wars. Childish, but they were into it.) Sent letter to Mom & D asking for stock certificates. They
won’t like it.
Dinner should have been nice but barbecue very messy.
Wore my tightest jeans and my pink French “Trés chic” t-shirt. Devon surprised me by talking on and on about how beautiful I am. Started to get stoked – in fact I was horny as hell. I would have taken the three seminary students on if I could have avoided the interpersonal madness that would result. They all have beautifully athletic bodies. But I’m starting to get a feeling that if I just sit in my deer blind a bit longer Devon will come to me.
Every now and then I get a bad “Ryder – flashback”, like some synaptic slipup. What will I think of this years from now? Mirror images ache, then fade.
Cold Comfort Farmexactly 100 pages too long (but I
think most books are). Take a long hot Jean Nate bubble bath and read The Thornbirds.
2:30 PM Wed July 27 – 77
Masturbation is the better part of valor. Don’t make
decisions ruled by sex. Bike ride combined with cold shower doesn’t work.
Must husband my wattage (joke). Too bad sex is
such a fast way to get to know someone.
First draft of Demon so far bony and spare. Neatly
boxed “components” = “write your own novel”. Trying to exterminate “dead” patches. Wish I had done this with The Mass at St. Secaire –
but in those days I was in the “throw in everything you think of and
take it out later” school. I like constructing this awkward armature better. Lean and mean superior to flagellate and winnow.
Will I ever let Ryder see my new body, my new confidence?
He will hang on for dear life and I don’t want that. I want to go back to dancing but Ryder prefers I have neither security NOR money.) Think I’ll look for a sublet – easier to impress a private owner than a credit union.
I prefer living alone. Painstaking cultivation of intense privacy in the midst of a crowd has always been my forte.
Mom and Dad called – acting all worried. Apologizing
for giving Ryder my number. I put on a good show of being completely ”over” him but I can see they don’t want me moving back to Washington and prefer Mrs. Duvall’s ski chalet option. (My cynical side tells me it’s just cheaper.) I act like I have connections to the literary life in DC and they don’t know any better.
Thornbirds is teaching me the great unpleasantness of
what publishers define as “a good read”. Contrary to my previous belief unfortunately the Victorian period has not ended. Forced to skip the war, potted history and scenery descriptions just to keep going.
7:30 PMFinished Thornbirds. Neither Dane’s death nor Justine’s love affair rang true for me. Uh oh. Danger signs. My taste thoroughly out of kilter with the market.
Couldn’t swim – 3,000 spectators at some sort of race
in the pool. So went to library – checked out twelve books – bio, history murder mysteries. Alec Waugh, Somerset Maugham, Vyvyan Holland, –
Hugh Walpole. Evelyn Waugh, of course. At this very moment R is
doing his very last show of 7:30 Live. Will they have a party or wake?
Probably go out drinking at the Shalimar, try to pick up dancers he can hector and assault. Time for me to go walking and see how the other (99%) live.
HOT PROWL
Don’t wake up.
I surveil by night
Your chiseled torso
Slacken with exhaustion.
Touching things that once
You touched,
Listing to your apnea –
I turn away before you turn.
Making peace with all my choices.
It’s worth everything;
Winning in divorce a
Hard-won superpower:
Invisibility
2:45 PM Thurs 28 July 77
Loving myself today. I am very tan. Hair strawberry
blond and my stretchmarks look like silk moiré. Any sense of inadequacy must be pounced upon and shored up – work like a beaver at his dam.
No worries, few fears. Daddy sent $ which I deposit in my acct. Since I can’t cash a check anywhere I eat what’s here; pickled beets and plain grits. Gallons of water to even it all out. Shake the old body out after 26 years.
Decide two people create love – I refuse to do it alone.
Reading Ford Madox Ford and grooving on his Violet versus Elsie
problems. Schadenfreude. Years later poor Elsie says, “I should have ignored everybody and divorced him.” Alas, Ford is a self-centered fool.
Not a simpatico character. However the period is a favorite with me. Mail hideously dull. Nothing from Harcourt. Will my “Westerns” editor have thenerve to turn down an author they’ve got 105,000 copies of? Yes. They’re all a bunch of weenies, frankly. Bike ride.
8:45 PM Finished article for the McManus mag about
Shadowe – “Island in Common” – 750 words – sent it off with letter.
Mission accomplished. Thinking of substituting a night ride for my walk.
Triggers fewer yearnings.
Ford’s moved to the US and I’m at the end of my tether with him. Tried
reading Jane Novak’s Razor Edge of Balance on V. Woolf – but she’s no threat –
– Lingo Academico virtually impenetrable.
Loved reading Fowles on the Fr Lt’s Woman – even though he has a “tin ear” about the Victorians – their “failure” to depict “a man and woman in bed together” ! (How about My Secret Life!!!) He’s the real thing all right even though he launched 1st draft without any research. (It shows.)
I’m going to stop freaking out about how little I know London.
Full of joy & life & strength & immortality & pep. Now thinking fondly of DC. Resist the impulse to call myself a turkey for even MENTIONING living together to R. (I said in my phone message I had to have a house for dogs.)
I can see him crying over his beer at the strip club. Insisting his wussdom is independence. I feel and look mighty thin – but refuse the temptation to weigh
myself. Size seven is good enough. Took my walk looking indulgently at couples with children thinking, “This too is within my reach.”
Mail full of dull rejections NO interest or acceptances. But the UNITY MITFORD I’d ordered came which I’m reading now. Must write about sisters someday. It’s a trip.
11:12 AM Sat 30 Jul 77
Going out tonight with Devon to see Annie Hall, that laff riot he hasn’t seen. This is one of the things I love about life – it’s so unpredictable! Give these guys space to stew they will eventually DO something. We had a nice phone conversation. I can tell he has “traumatized” himself by thinking he “lured” me fruitlessly here. I tell him hardly, I’m writing 8 p. a day (of course it will all have to be thrown out) getting a tan and reading piles of books. (All true.) Too cold & overcast today for pool though and now its raining.
Starting to get a feeling D and I will end up in bed.
It’s inevitable. How I crave that tight young flesh…Bet you $5. Will
wear my faded cerise linen jumpsuit, high heels and Nefertiti necklace.
Stoking!
4:15 PM Sun 31 July 77 Deck
Devon found Annie Hall so painful it took awhile for him to speak. I was surprised but patient. I couldn’t have dreamed up a movie more likely to focus all our reservations. The scene where Annie tells Alvy she misses him made me think of poor Ryder – the separate fragile uniqueness of each human soul – and I could tell Devon was “feeling” his memories too.
We sneaked a pizza (a whole pizza) into the theatre
so we could come right back here for wine and coffee and more wine –
took three hours to get to the point of making love.
In a fairly daring move D opened the buttons of my jumpsuit and stroked my stomach pulling down first one shoulder and then another to play with my breasts. Lovely feeling our bodies surge together. He’s good with his hands and has the most sensitive nipples of any man I’ve been with. At last I suggested we go to bed – the couch was really too uncomfortable. D went down on me – his body is the most gorgeous since the history of time – mountains, valleys, crevasses
– it’s like rock climbing making love to this man. He insisted on coming outside me which startled me somewhat, but after asking about my “protection” (IUD) fortunately abandoned this technique the second time.
He looks at me in a funny way like he wants to say
something but he doesn’t say it. I tried to tell him I’ve learned so much from our 5 year friendship – he seemed unable to take it in. He obviously fears the future and his memory is so bad – after the terrors of his childhood he thinks the whole past is all bad news. It’s like he’s afraid to remember ANYTHING. That would be the worst thing for a writer.
You dare not fear the past. Rhythms can’t evolve from longing alone.
We woke up, grapenuts & coffee, went swimming, sat on deck, watched tennis on TV. Every time I changed clothes he said “the sight of you naked turns me on” and we made love again.
Tomorrow is the first of August – whole new beginning.
Try to see myself at 33, with a lawn and a bra and a trash compactor.
Freedom is key. No mail. Reading Geo Woodcock’s critical study of Orwell.
6:45 PM Dark as night and pouring rain. Obsessing
about D’s body – can’t get it out of my mind and our 22 hours together.
Welcome obsessions; R’s slate cleared. Did I use him? Is he “Brand X?”
Thinking of all the things I wish I’d said to Devon. He’s so intellectual yet so impermeable. Strange delicate kisses – as impossible to get inside his mouth as his mind. Loud thunder, lightning.
& sour cream – everything ready but wine. Too lazy to drive
to the Tick Tock. Day of ecstasy sorting books in new study.
Sections are: crime writing, Victorians, Great Novels, the Occult,
Women Writers, Cinema, Politics, Science, Children, History &
Murder Mysteries. (Move those downstairs.) Hating Orlando.
Why did Bowen write Afterword if she didn’t like the book?
Mon 28 Feb 77 – Broadcast Agency
Bad sex. Sore. Feel like I’ve been run over. Something’s
up with him. Mauled me again in the middle of the night. Guilt?
Surprise visit from landlord – heard about “violations” from
Montgomery County. Ha ha. Obviously only two people living here –
(nothing visible of Mason’s.) Landlord calmed. Says he wants to
sell the place. Would we allow to be shown? I said sure. Everybody happy. Sorry to lose such a beautiful house but it is too expensive for one person anyway.
Thurs. 3 Mar 77
Long talk with Avril about Mason. He is a racist.
She says how is it possible to feel superior to and inferior to someone at the same time? Human condition, I say. Spring wind makes me long to shed my clothes! Poor Ryder! It’ll be halter tops and hot pants the minute temp hits 65. Finally got a V. Woolf poem –
VIRGINIA WOOLF:
The Membraned Sieve
O bliss to be red admiral afeast
Upon a rotten apple in the grass; she dreamed that guiltily
Woke to Leonard bringing milk
Nessa dancing bear-like on the lawn, woke
To pain; cylindrical as seasons
Burning white and burning blue like friends.
The words fell fast, the blood fell faster;
Split the membraned sieve.
She raced the whitecaps out to sea
Parting the waves with her mother’s hand.
Keith and I still talk but he has made no moves. Relief.
Mon 7 Mar 77
Ryder says he talks so much about me associate director
Kerry’s asked to meet me. (He told Kerry he doesn’t deserve
me. It’s the truth!) I said he can’t come to our party at
The Plum – we have no room.
Sex too rough. Experimenting or letting his anger
out? Maybe I’ve stopped lubricating – my body’s ready
to quit even if I’m not. Wants me to wake up and smell
the coffee. Lunch w/Maeve at Carmac’s, me splendid in
I gave her phone bill – also letter from collection agency
about plane bill she said boyfriend paid for. He’s obviously
running a scam on her. She says she found a Bethesda
efficiency $180/month. Had to rush to get back to work –
then saw List of Adrian Messenger with A. Made up writing
schedule for Secaire. But the minute I start I get idea for
another work – story about father/ daughter/ stepmother war–
A Demon Roused. Who’s the demon? Reading The Ring,
the Book & The Poet.
11 Mar 77
Sent home 3:30 because B’Nai B’rith under siege
by terrorists (3 blocks away). Police will tell us when to
come back. Real estate agent leads inspector thru house.
Bad letter from my agent telling me not to try to sell “old” stuff,
write in “new” vein – but she means “like Devlyn”. No more
historicals for me!!!! Got to get out of this stalemated “love”
relationship – when I tax R with things he’s said, he
claims he “doesn’t remember” so we never advance
and I feel diminished. Had to tell him sex is over – I can
see he doesn’t believe me. Must ask for his key back,
that should do it. Dragged Avril protesting to Freaky Friday –
it was worth it. Barbara Harris Chaplinesque. Told Broadcast
I will work only one full day per week – must go back to dancing.
Read Ellen Glasgow’s The Woman Within. Trying to
rewrite Secaire in third person. Unsuccessful. Dreaming
about houses with deep, cool porches but tax people
giving me only $112. Avril crying over Mason’s “hideous brutality”
but she won’t break up with him. Ugh. (Feel my relationship mirrored.)
13 Mar 77
Made love with R for what I hope was last time
(he brought lubricant.) His body no longer a key to mine.
Think I’m started on Secaire Final Draft. God I hope so.
R will sulk for a while, then we’ll “talk”. Prayed for the first
time, to the “life source”. Pray away panic and disorder,
pray for clarity, purity, calm. Beautiful long walk. Heat like July.
Storm burst 4:30. Coffee, orange slices, do my nails. Re-
read Great Gatsby, pitying Fitzgerald the while. Someone
should write this novel from Daisy’s point of view. Exciting
way to get back into Courtney – but I don’t want to put it in the ‘20’s.
Told R I’m dating so had to invite Keith to All Night Strut –
he was pleased. Says he’s not hung up on men paying for everything.
17 Mar 77
Thank God for dancing. a fe moments of complete bliss each evening.
Everyone fussing about Scenes from a Marriage. It is excellent.
Reading good bio Dorothy Thompson. Novel going swimmingly –
suddenly feel fearless. Sex scene perfect. Why elaborate?
Why elucidate? Need to be out of this house June 1 – can do,
but should I return to dancing or take summer off? Undecided.
Mon. 21 Mar 77
Wish I hadn’t called Ryder but I did. He was very injured
by my sex comments. I said I was very injured by the sex. (He says he fears me.) Goddamit feel like turning in my phone if this is how
I am going to behave. Watched Upstairs Downstairs, Monty Python.
Felt better. All Night Strut amusing – Keith invited me to Voyage of the Damned. (He pronounces it Dam – NED. In a class by himself after all?)
Unfortunately not feeling the chemistry. Trying to take what pleasure I can in high heels and see through blouses. Could we just date? Secaire solid, beautiful, disturbing. Avril says its very exciting. Found a shack in Virginia for $200/month. But maybe I have to flee this state to eradicate R from my soul.
Bad date. I talked too much. Goddamit dating’s awful. Like those endless “teas” we suffered through in Girl Scouts. Sex is less work (not that I indulged. He has a repellently gooey corpus.) He took me to Alfio’s for dinner! Scene of R’s & my first date! Couldn’t resist telling him I used to dance at Shalimar next door. Keith invited me to his house in Potomac. I said nix. Dumped on doorstep with closed mouth kiss.
Shudders of relief. Walked in on Mason in a rage over my “betrayal” of Ryder!! I said he’s dating other people. Mason said but he loves you!
I didn’t say his love is a septic condition. (Because Mason’s love is also a septic condition. Poor Avril.) Happily to bed with Becker’s Escape from Evil.
2 April 77
Crisis at work sending my first cablegram to France – Keith showed up looking extremely handsome. Terrible suspicions novel is bad.
Off to splendiferous bash – literary party. Met Chuck Kornowitz,
editor from Athenaeum. Acted interested in my work – where can we have dinner? Took him to the Serbian Crown. He is NOT interested in my work he is interested in me. Damn. Told me the most erotic encounter he has ever had was with a stranger in an elevator! Feels sex with complete strangers has not yet been fully explored!!! Not by me that’s for sure.
He drove me home, insisted on walking dogs with me, holding my hand! Weird but I don’t want to turn him off entirely. (He’s old and ugly – looks like a Gila monster.) Fighting the impulse to call R and yell at him. Boy am I sick. Poor Keith does not know I need him for a rabies shot. Against hair of the dog?
Fri. 8 Apr 77
Agency offers me over-time while files are reorganized. More cash. We celebrate Avril‘s new job as fake nurse at urology office. She hasto buy a nursing uniform so patients won’t know. (Doctor not willing to pay over minimum wage.) Still, it looks classy. Went to Black Tahiti where I had sweet & sour shrimp. Turns out I need to stay away from booze because called You Know Who came right over and we indulged in mad passionate sex all night long. R was delicate and gentle – brought me to the edge several times before finally pushing me off cliff. Showoff.
Talked about me like he’d read my work. (Praising it.
Thought I’d be pleased.) Then told me he’d “busy” this weekend.
Steeerike three! Tragically I need a guardian, conservator AND a
bodyguard. (Keith doesn’t have the build.)
Chloe apologized for bad writing workshop with dinner
after at Armand’s. My advice to writers – learn what kind of writer
you need to be and get on with it. Found myself getting defensive about Devlyn – if I don’t want to write “that way” again it must mean there was “something wrong” with it!!! Bad advice from Ted Hughes :
“When you find yourself using someone else’s voice, stop at once.”
Nothing ventured nothing gained under that theory. This is not making me eager to hit the “literary events” as Chloe advised. The “noise” interferes with my working mind.
Hostile questioning from Mom and Dad who don’t know
why I don’t move closer to Devon!!! They say “playing the field” is
cheapening my brand. Reading Mrs. Starr Lives Alone.
Checked my acct – $54!! Don’t know where it came from
but I will spend it. Sent poems to Chloe Aparo, borrow bike from
Shoulders. Ryder wants to go horseback riding, we went to see
The Tenant instead. (Cheaper). R managed to discuss it intelligently.
Trying to research the occult for Secaire. Reading bad suspense
novel – Geoffrey Turtons Devil’s Churchyard. I liked all his other
books. Dump it for Aleister Crowley’s Diary of a Drug Fiend. $10
to live on for 2 weeks. Mom & Dad sent emergency check.
6:25 PM – Sun 3 Oct 76
Fabulous dinner party last night. Steak tartare, crab
and cheese casserole, lots of wine. R and I fall asleep in each
other’s arms. We have more sex “broken up” than when we were
dating. Got offered $3.50 an hour for 4 hr a day legal secretary!!!
Out of their minds. Trying to sell my wedding dress for $150 –
got one porno call.
Tues 5 Oct 76
4pm appt with Environmental Defense Fund. Howard
Nemerov such a relief after Auden.
Thurs 11:30 PM 7 Oct 76
Typical Tyler St evening. Lying in bed (alone) powdered
and polished from bath. Maeve and Avril out on dates. R is working,
I’m reading Quest for Theseus. Got too depressed reading
Shirley Jackson. Her life solutions: food and cigarettes – plenty
of both. Lost EDF job – as soon as they turned me down I
decide I want it! To WTTG to apply for “production asst” job –
200 people spilling into street! Didn’t bother. How write about
love if it’s impossible?
I owe Maeve money – she doesn’t like it and I don’t
like it. Tension almost unbearable waiting for my check.
R offered jobs in Pittsburgh & Detroit. (He says he
doesn’t ever want to leave though it’s the only way to make more $$.)
12:55 PM Wed 13 1976 These are the times that try
women’s souls. Desperately accepted switchboard job at Broadcasters Agency because it looks easy and I can think my own thoughts.
Replacing a girl going on maternity leave so I’m not stuck if I don’t
like it. Agent sent check told me not to cash it for a week!!! Thinking
they’re all scam artists. Reading Diane Johnson’s brilliant Lesser
Lives. Avril depressed over Mason. Maeve depressed over George.
I am buying diet pills because of sedentary job.
Switchboard – Broadcast Agency 9:15 AM – Fr. 18 Feb 77
New notebooks such a thrill. Always a fresh start:
I could almost become anyone. Worked 3 full days this week –
more $$ in the coffers. Avril coming in to Broadcasters Agency
to apply for Zelma’s old job – $8500/yr for 7 hr day. Hope she
gets it. Brought in The Voyage Out today – I WILL finish it –
bring it to its knees. Perfect example of everything usually wrong
with first novels. Don’t like her novels as much as letters and diaries.
Talk about peering through a glass darkly. Oh well. Still drinking
coffee and picking the fuzz out of my eyes. Period’s arrived with its
usual exquisite timing. Once I’ve finished Secaire (needs a final burst)
can rewrite Find Courtney. Sort of a love story there.
10:30AM Sun 20 Feb 77
R and I went on ski weekend to Massanutten.
Didn’t work. Never felt so far from him, and he realized it.
Opal & Garrett over for dinner last night – their relationship is
boring when I’m alone and don’t have R doing all the work for me.
Drank too much out of sheer boredom and because I was
depressed over R, then I get depressed over being depressed
and drink more. Clearly he’s worthless and I must be too if I can
get depressed over him. No good work on novel. Filing, cleaning,
paying bills takes up all my time and my room still looks like a filthy hole.
Hermiting seems only option (cheaper, too). Must learn to roll
with the punches.
Fantasizing about Devon because 24th is his birthday. Bad sign.
1:00PM 21 Feb 77
Dizzy from dieting. Not dancing very bad for my body.
Current weight 122. (Opal says I have the perfect body. Glad
someone appreciates it.) Ryder suggested jogging – bad mistake.
Instantly attacked by colds & flu. Instead of eating go to library on
my lunch hr to take out books. Went to see The Sentinel somewhere
in the burbs with Avril and Mason, who drove like a crazy person
(“I’m not afraid of death!”) Never again. Ghastly flick. Mason moving in
– his money is good. Another secret to be kept from landlord. A guy
at work (Keith Dalrymple) is courting me. He looks all right, though
he has receding hairline. Kind of old. Asked to read my novel. I gave
him my poems instead. He needs to hit the ground running.
Tues. 22 Feb 77
Mason trying to talk A into moving to Calif with him. Uh oh.
Maeve also wants to move out because I’m critical of her
“dating” her married boss (they have sex in the supply closet).
She believes his tiredest lines. “Drop him – he’s outrageous
and destructive,” I say. I’m one to talk. Will use her room for
my study. Try to live without roommates. Sent Devon a long
grey silk scarf for his birthday.
3:40 PM Wed 23 Feb 77
Keith Dalrymple amazingly told me he loves my
poems. Wow. Having good literary taste definitely works with me!
Having a drink with him tonight. Had to struggle to keep myself
from hurling cash at a gorgeous $50 suit in going-out-of-business
dress shop on Dupont Circle. Slogging through Mrs Dalloway –
it’s her best book. But all this blind struggle not my thing. Require
some consciousness. I guess we were reptiles in those days just turning amphibious.
Thurs. 24 Feb 77
Can’t seem to write poetry anymore. Cocktail bar buffet
with Keith (Avril calls him a “dim bulb”. We are very critical of each
other’s honeys.) He’s a Woolf novel – smooth glossy surface,
violence and trauma beneath. He is intelligent – quoted Frost –
38 yrs old – divorced (was married 15 years!!!) I sat swilling
Scotch and giving him the hairy eyeball – do I have the strength
for this? He blanched when I ordered escargots chablisienne.
Wouldn’t even kiss him. I demand exceptionality and refuse to settle for less. Whatever else you can say about Ryder, he’s definitely one of a kind. I am in a unique position compared to other women writers. Given the chance to rise above sexual
strictures. Bought an exquisite pair of very high-heeled boots. I tower over Ryder – in more ways than one. Heheheh.
EVAN I am utterly becalmed. What I dread most is silence, The latest form of impotence. I need stringing up and tautening. This is the Revenge of love. Its revenge on me.
EVA I am suffused with love because I am free. My work becomes our child, Our extension. Immortal. Still, Something vanishes when you’re not there.
EVAN Elayna broke her hip. How irreplaceable she is to me. Our brand of married happiness is entirely unsung. I shrink to leave her even for a day.
EVA I’m sorry it wasn’t fatal. Am I so dispensable to you? You love no one. If you turn against me I’ll die in a week because I have no one looking after me.
EVAN Turn against you! Agonizing! In spite of the hangover of humiliation I broke down all reserves so we could be together. A very happy day and I was sorry to leave you.
EVA Wed & sad. Past distress muffled by age & habit. Today we meet formally as if at a garden party. A promise unfulfilled. Miracles happen but The gift of love is guilt & pain.
EVAN You looked so ill I was nagged by fear I bored you. I long for the happiness of old age, Guilt free, pain free, fear free.
EVA I invited Elayna to lunch.
EVAN I am not best pleased. Your ghost will haunt me till I die. The day you come to like each other It will be poison to our love.
Elayna rarely admits depression. I have had not just love but loyalty. You force ruthlessness. It is a good thing your throat is sore Or you would never stop talking.
EVA Are you sending me your signet ring? I want something solid to remember you by. A last communion. Dodging death, I fight off this Paralyzing loneliness.
(EVA fades away. EVAN is alone.)
EVAN Is the flaw in love a flaw in me? I never should have married. My heart jumps with pain like a hooked fish. I am rudderless. Upon your death My ring comes back, All your contrivances revealed.
Now that you are gone, I find you everywhere. It’s hard to take in the fact that We will never see each other again; Never, never, never. You are gone from me forever.
I walk the streets and weep. Is this delayed shock? Boredom or despair? I will never cease to feel this pain till I cease feeling anything. For the last three nights, I dreamed of you.
Did I anger you, neglect you? It’s too late to pray – I await your final book with horror. I need to know I was your life. Please come back one last time For just an hour. If you ever thought you loved more than I You are now Revenged.
EVA Did I leave my diary behind? Don’t read it, not that you would. It’s anaphrodisiac. I am filled with envious admiration For the way you spend your time. It’s an incentive to work, being alone. Diplomats are never lonely.
EVAN My bed gets so icy in the small hours of the morning – I am losing interest in sex. Perhaps I am already part of the spirit world. I am in limbo and will never escape this place.
The teenager remains alive in me, I have a Panic fear of conformity So I cast myself as the elderly rake. I fear I’m the bore – Marriage gets me down.
EVA When you go on and on about yourself You’re a man I don’t recognize. I prefer your adolescent self. The man of the house should be a free agent. A respected prowler Never lonely, housebound, Eating baked beans and drinking stewed tea.
EVAN In other countries women Are less bossy and more decorative. You are jealous of my life – I am jealous of yours.
EVA Ah the pain of your reproach! Not seeing you would kill me. I live for the memory of our every moment. I wouldn’t give a damn if I died tomorrow.
EVAN This is the letter I would write you if I dared, if I weren’t frightened by the cancer Of your wife-hatred. I am overworked, wrung out. Possessed by you.
You make me live at the pitch of anguish. Our love has roots in good and evil, It lives in the darkest places of our natures Shall we end by destroying each other? You have the deadlier weapons.
EVA I do have a bad effect on people. Guilt, conspiracy, love, I cannot breathe without them.
EVAN Boredom, dissipation, remorse, And apprehension– I can’t escape this obsessive cycle. Beneath the controlled surface of my mind Opportunities to be frenzied are endless. I’m afraid of saying something ruthless which many stick.
EVA This place is full of you. I can no longer look at hyacinths Gratitude for our happiness chokes me. The restlessness of pleasure going to waste. Missing you is like an illness.
EVAN If there’s a worm in this bud Who is the corruptor? Your insights are so powerful they alter mine.
EVA I believe we should exchange rings. Is this a faux pas? Would your wife object? I need something in case you die of your itch or I fall out of an airplane.
I wonder why Elayna’s throat won’t heal? I believe she is ice-bound. Sealing you away from life.
EVAN You witch, you have Frozen poor Elayna’s throat. I begged you not to. You make all Suffering physical.
EVA Elayna’s frozen her own throat – I wish you’d see it. Depression is hallucinatory. Guilt and sorrow undermine my confidence, I refuse to give them credence.
EVAN I’m grateful when we talk calmly, Our fearful scenes seem so long ago. I’m sure the panic of youth has played its part. I used to hope you would love me less over time But now I think we love each other equally.
EVA You are so near me I feel we are one person. I feel you now beside me. I will make you real.
EVAN I feel your longing As I fear your signaling. I owe you happiness But I can’t express it. We must believe life is as beautiful as music Says it is.
EVA The illusions we cultivate are A form of courage. Forget my deficiencies Find amusement in the worldly game.
EVAN Do you really love me? Why should you? I don’t any longer Believe In friendship.
EVA It is a horror, an outrage That we should not be together. I struggle against The wound of not knowing where you are each minute. Everything you do is more important to me than my own life. The whole of me is with you. I see and feel you so distinctly, Your beloved cold hand in mine Your touch on the nape of my neck.
Joy and agony – my insides torn by pincers. A double goodbye would have been awful – two bites on the bullet of pain.
This love is like something we have given birth to. We must never blunt our imagination or tenderness. Don’t get a cold in your soul.
EVAN Are these abortive suicide attempts? I disappoint everyone. Cut the cable. Set me free.
I deliberately left one of your letters for Elayna to find.
With me love is linked with A need to betray. I invite possessiveness. She made me promise our love would never be physical. I lied fluidly.
EVA Even the thought of Such a loss of pleasure tears at my heart Like some medieval torture.
You harrow me unbearably. My defenses are down. I’m filled me with a sense of ghastly injury. How I wish I were more beautiful – It’s my mouth that ages me. It reveals my greedy secrets.
I want you seeing all of me – Even if it hurts. My work Is my legacy – You are your own child. You preserve your youth with the harm That you cause.
I feel I am dead and already Interred – in you. You are my eternity.
EVAN Repressed boredom causes blocks You can’t have everything. I am kept aloft by the conflict of Unbearables. It makes me happy.
EVA If our dancing life is over – Should I enter a convent? There’s no point in being alive if we’re not together. I show my deepest self to you alone.
EVAN Please – no more shaming conversations Over Irish whisky. Let’s cut our losses And get some fun from life. Your miraculous capacities awaken My belief in myself.
EVA
The gash in our love might close But I’ll never forget it’s there. Life with you is a remote happiness to which I cling
EVAN And all this time you write such Fantastic books. If you were as unhappy as you say, You couldn’t write so well. I’m proud to be The whetstone on which you sharpen – I should be thanked for all your works.
Writing to you Makes me itch with a beastly itch – Exhilarated, punch drunk Feeling your enthrallment Despite the day’s malaise.
I can’t put my heart back in the hollow Where it used to be. You force me to see Myself.
At the peak of my ambition, Beauty and power curdle within me. People are so easily fooled, so Satisfied with little identify my performance with my Soul.
You’ve spoiled me for everything. Stop warning me you’ll take a lover – I don’t own your life and never aspired to. There is heartbreak here, but is the ghost in the house Or in me? We argue about who has the worst friends, But our friends are all the same. Please Send another psychic telegram, “You’re the One.”
EVA Your last screed was a masterpiece. I believe writing it Creates that eczema from which You say you suffer. My friends at Tosca said it’s bad manners To make a depressing fuss And get other people down.
EVAN Is the strength I draw from you a fairy tale? I am appalled by the joint misery we feel. Why should we not rebel?
EVA You shed your light around me. If only we could stand each other. You’ll keep the blood Running in my veins Threatening to spill.
EVAN Someone said I look ten years younger From drinking your life, I’m sure. I need my own room because I sleep badly and I like to roam at night.
Tosca is too emotional to be good taste But I’m happy you enjoyed it. I feel far from you right now but Underneath I’m outrageously glad.
EVA Your diplomacy fascinates me. Your mettle is the stuff of history. When young I resisted education Like a fool – But It makes everything comprehensible. What kills me is having to deal with people.
I tie myself up writing Imaginary conversations with you – It’s possible you’re a creature of My invention. Our pattern seems set – Or is it? If treachery can’t break it, There is no death.
If This Archetype Chooses You – You are surrounded by magical possibilities. Are you dreaming of eternal bliss? Floating in connectedness? In Love the boundaries of the other disappear, all is forgiveness. Merge fearlessly, knowing you will be able to get yourself back any time, soothed, improved, and healed.
We Are Creatives for Love – Love is the spirit that animates the empty spaces between humans. Once charged, these spaces become a powerful force for growth and change – uncharged they are so much dead air. This is the space that creatives protect. Love is the longing to be truly alive and to share life with the Blissed, Blessed Others.
Our Yearning Defines and Connects Us – As children we thought we knew about miracles but it seems we have forgotten. As creatives we fight for our ancestral memories of trust and closeness. How we long to be reminded of the ecstasy of selflessness, to re-experience the borderlessness between creatures that makes a dead universe come alive.
Love Is Our Armor – It’s a spiral, our labyrinth, remember? We can’t go back, we can only go forward. We practice techniques and invent others as we design and redesign purposeful maps in a threatening and uncertain world. We have the collective confidence of all the brilliance of the creatives who came before us. Someone loved us once, eternalizing the golden moment, now we can re-create and perpetuate that magic by creating our own miracles.
Creative Danger – Danger lies in narrowing, exclusionary definitions of what ‘can’t” happen, what “won’t” work. Creatives explode restrictions all the time. Love must ever open outwards. As soon as we turn Love into a zero-sum game with a shut-off valve focused on our own narrow gratification, Love dies.
Creative Opportunity – Love Is always a Miracle – It can restore the dead to life. It can open minds, it can awaken hearts. The possibilities of a creative are endless because we have chosen, with our flexibility and our sympathetic understanding, to be endless. Close your eyes and assume yoga’s starfish pose. We are open to what the universe longs to teach and once we commit to pass it on, we form an unbreakable chain, free at last from the bonds and the limits of selfishness. Clasp the hand (or paw) that generously, trustingly takes hold of yours. Let’s venture forth together.
Models & Mentors – ‘to love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides” – David Viscott
“Miracles don’t happen to you, they happen through you.” – Mary Davis
“Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get, only what you are expecting to give, which is everything” – Katherine Hepburn
“Love gives you a piece of your soul you never knew was missing” – Torquato Tasso
“You’ve got to see the miracle to be the miracle.” – Jandy Nelson
“Love is the gift of oneself” – Jean Anouilh
“I love you for who I am when I’m with you” – Elizabeth Barrett Browning
#Haiku: Love Transfer
The secret of breaking Any bad habit Is to love Something more
Alysse Aallyn 