but still, a novel. they're pretty cool, novels.

was kind've hoping your old man had just stopped by now, tho.

I think what I'm going to do is put my days side by side the letters he writes, face his fiction with fact and photograph.

Whatever you write will be spectacular because of how you write. This is not a generalization. This is you in particular.

In this post, you've already written about a very difficult situation in such an interesting way.

I'm actually pleased it's going to be more personal than your oddball adventures. This is the stuff really worth writing for you and reading for us.

I found dropping out of highschool to work for the Russians fairly personal, but I understand it's not the same.

Edited at 2008-06-18 05:28 am (UTC)

HA!

Maybe you can work that one in some how.

;)

Eh, that was years ago, this is only going to be made of the last year.

I've always wondered about that story, but didn't want to pry and bring up bad memories for you. I hope writing a book is cathartic and not too painful.

My dad as a dad is dead, it's just unfortunate his body's still wandering around, hitting people.

Are you sure it would be safe for you to dip into his poisoned swimming pool like that?

I read some occasionally, and yunlike last time, i go check in regularly enough that the account remains active. I wanted to see how long he would howl into silence, no matter how sad it was to see.

so in a way, yes

Very.

I saw a piece at Krazy called "no ghost in the shell" and thought of your dad. I could not believe that after 19 years he could still keep his hatred so bright and shiny. Those letters still had the power to hurt me, but I hope that you can turn the horror into art.

The time since we have been separate is now longer than the time we were together. There should be some way to help when someone you know is slipping away -- but there is nothing that I could do because we never legally married. His fragile mother was his next of kin and she was in no condition to have to deal with anything like this.

When I was young, mental illness was like sex -- never talked about in public -- something to be ashamed of. I had no idea of how to identify the problem or what to do. I hope that your generation drags these problems out of the closet into the light. I don't want any young woman to have to go through what I did and no child should have to live with that kind of disconnect.

I remember fleeing with my children from my house to a WAVAW shelter, only to have to return after the allowed time in the shelter ran out because I had no where else to go. He enjoyed showing me how powerless I was, how he could break into my house and do anything he wanted to and I could do nothing. Even when the police came they would watch him destroy my belongings, then convince him to leave. He would return -- I have many painful stories, but he finally stayed away. I am not sure why, but Social Services became involved and I think they gave him somewhere to live. I haven't seen him since the end of 1989. I hope this project does not bring him into my life or yours.

Hug.

Thanks, sweetheart. Next time Lung comes down, I'll come too. I have photo ID again! Hoorah!

we should coordinate salton together and go at the same time.

"To live is to war with trolls in the vaults of the heart and the brain. To write, that is to sit in judgement over one's self." - Ibsen

Best of luck, and don't stop writing. Ever. It's later than you think.

Of that, I am always aware.

that is very interesting. and i look forward to anything you finish.

*grins* Trade you copy for copy, heh.

works for me.

Glad to see you taking something so ugly and building such beauty from it. I hope you can gain insights from it, but if nothing else, creating a work of art is fundamental to denying, for a while, the chaos and the entropy that will eventually claim us all. Good luck with your writings.