But this section I'm writing now has been difficult. This chapter is broken into two sections. The first section came fairly easy--I wanted it to be quick, deliberately. The other half was a bit harder--I knew what the point of it was, but I had no idea how I wanted to get there.
I've spent days avoiding this section. Days, literally. Instead of writing, I'd read, or fiddle my time away on Facebook. Reading, mostly, because I've had a good book that's kept me up late at night.
Fortunately, Corb was Manager on Duty at his hotel this week-end, and it's been a busy one for him, and that gave me time this morning to really think about things.
There's something about being in this hotel that helps me, creatively, too. This past winter, I edited much of The Late Night Show in this hotel, and also, found it helpful when I was directing Anything Goes.
It didn't fail me, again, this time. A short 15 minutes of meditation, of focusing on what I wanted to accomplish, and then forcing myself to sit in front of a blank piece of paper. Suddenly, the words started flowing. What if I did this, tied in this, went back to this? In less than half an hour, I'd had the hook for the entire section, and from there, it's easy.
Anxious to get this done. The finish line is always the best part! I still have one chapter that's not completely clear in my head, but I know it will come. Two of the three uncompleted chapters are completely solid in my mind. The characters are there, and shades of Pirandello, they just need to make their way onto the page.
The good book I've been reading is, oddly enough, "The Tumultuous Life and Comic Art of Lucille Ball," by Stefan Kanfer. I know, odd choice, but I haven't been able to put it down. Lucy really had an inverted donut hole of a life--a kind of flaccid first act, a brilliant second act, and a third act about as creatively unsatisfying as the first. But wow, what's contained in that second act affected us all!
And Desi was a total shit.
There was one paragraph in the book I found fascinating. As her relationship with Desi was at its end, they took a trip to Hawaii, to try one last ditch effort to save it.
"The couple argued for much of the time, and once, to cool off, Desi took a dip in the Pacific. He body-surfed for a while and emerged minus his glittering gold chain that held a St. Christopher medal and his wedding ring. Lucy was to characterize this as 'Kind of symbolic. Our marriage was gone--so why shouldn't his ring be, too?"
What struck me was that this happened in my life, too. During the summer of that last year that Josie and I were together, planning our separation, we had a pool on the lawn, that Theo and I loved to play in, for hours. On afternoon, while body surfing, my wedding ring slipped off my finger, and I never found it, although I searched for hours. I found it somewhat symbolic, too.
But like Desi and Lucy, I find it comforting that Josie and I have remained such good friends. In fact, we were talking about that on the phone Friday night, and I asked, "Do you think the kids will appreciate that, when they get older? That we didn't end up hating each other?"
"I think they will," said Josie. "I think Annie does, already."
I hope so. But then, on Saturday, as Josie was picking up the kids, I referred to Josie in front of the kids as my ex-wife, and Ashes quickly pointed out, "You're not exes, yet."
"I know," said Josie. "We have been kind of slow about things."
"Really," said Ashes, rolling her eyes. "Can't you just get divorced, already?"