Working Days (10 page)

Yesterday was a bust. I could have forced the work out but I’d lost the flow of the book and it would have been a weak spot. Luckily I had the day to lose, but now I haven’t and so, until I have piled up another reserve day, I can’t lose anymore. Maybe Saturday I will try to do two pages. But right now, my job is to get my daily work done and so to it. Well, I got it done. Thank god. Stomach still not so good. Tomorrow used car yard. Must be good—and that will be—

 

 

Not an early start today but it doesn’t matter at all because the unity feeling is back. That is the fine thing. That makes it easy and fun to work. It is hot today. Not too hot but enough so that I am working in the lightest bathrobe and may have a shower soon. Letter from Beth
^*
this morning about the move to Bass Lake. Letter from Fred S. about Dick’s job.
^*
Hope he gets it. Wrote to Pare asking him to bear down on it. Don’t know whether he can. I would be glad if Dick got in and it would help me too. Now, concerning work. Today used cars, people and methods of selling, and hustle, profits, trades [Ed.—Chapter 7]. I think I can make it. Must be good, general and fierce. It will be just one day’s work. A short chapter. Must get the sense of the yard in it. Must get the sense of cheating in it. Cars, trucks, trailers. Well here goes. Got her done and I think it’s all right. Feel good about it anyway.

Comes now the—fifteenth day. Charley Cushman’s mother killed in an accident. Letter today. Last night Carol, reading
Tristram Shandy,*
suddenly got an impulse to make her will. Copied mine for form. Can’t see the connection—T.S. and wills. Just a business proposition and a wise thing to do but nevertheless it got into my dreams which have been deep and clear lately and I dreamed a confused mess made up of Dad and his failures and me and my failures. Some way connected with the store. Poor Dad couldn’t run a store, he didn’t know how. And I used to eat pies at noon hour and was ashamed of selling things. No mercantile ability in either of us and the store failed and left a terrible mark on Dad.* That was all in the dream and Gene’s death. It was a dark mess and I have trouble throwing it off. And the news now is so stupid, insane. The race in its leaders any way hardly deserves to survive. And now I am ready to go to work and I am glad to get into other lives and escape from mine for a while. Yesterday the used car lot and today Tom and Casy go home to the family, if they get there (Ed.-beginning of Chapter 8]. Must go slowly and introduce these people fully and carefully for I will be with them a long time. After spending nearly seven thousand dollars to be alone and quiet, the neighbors run their radio all day and I get the benefit of it. Carol can hear them reading their letters to each other. We may have to move from this beautiful place. This is a day when I could readily lose myself in irrelevant reflection and recrimination and so I must go to work now and stop such a possibility. This book can’t stop any more and this chapter must get under way. Well she’s done. Slow but I think good. I wanted this part slow. Tomorrow there is difficulty.

This is getting to be almost a standard time for starting work. Last night the itching, burning jitters and no sleep until 3:00. Maybe coffee. Hope my nerves aren’t weak because they have a long haul ahead. Doc Bolin
^*
here yesterday. Fine people. He is going on a collecting trip to the south seas and is very excited about it. Will see him in Honolulu in February. I’d like to go but won’t or can’t or something. Now some reference to the work today. Begin the detailed description of the family I am to live with for four months. Must take time in the description, detail, detail, looks, clothes, gestures. Ma very important. Uncle John important. Pa very. In fact all of them are important. Got to take it slowly. I don’t care how long it is [Ed.-Chapter 8]. We have to know these people. Know their looks and their nature. Must. And now to work. Rest of the line for after work comment. Finished her. I don’t know how well. Tomorrow I’ll have to fight my willpower.

 

 

Now it is Saturday and we got up early and I am to work early. I don’t see any reason for not doing a full day’s work [Ed.—2,000 words]. This is a huge job. Mustn’t think of its largeness but only of the little picture while I am working. Leave the large picture for planning time. If only I could do this book properly it would be one of the really fine books and a truly American book. But I am assailed with my own ignorance and inability. I’ll just have to work from a background of these. Honesty. If I can keep an honesty it is all I can expect of my poor brain—never temper a word to a reader’s prejudice, but bend it like putty for his understanding. If I can do that it will be all my lack of genius can produce. For no one else knows my lack of ability the way I do. I am pushing against it all the time. Sometimes, I seem to do a good little piece of work, but when it is done it slides into mediocrity. Well the day—Ma, Pretty Boy Floyd, Grampa and Granma and maybe Noah. Can’t tell whether I will get to Noah. To work now. Well, that’s done and I’ve caught up for my hangover—one day ahead [Ed.—Chapter 8]. Try to get another next Saturday. Watch the old people. Might get out of hand but I want them mean and funny. And Monday will be

 

 

Mrs. Gragg and Julia and [indecipherable] came. And I had the insistent sad feeling that I should never see Mrs. Gragg again. She told the best story in the world—the tripes of Josh Billings.* I must write this some time.

 

 

Now a new week. Must slow down and take it easier. Saturday had a feeling of exhaustion near to collapse. I guess I’d been working too hard. It’s not the amount of work but the almost physical drive that goes into it that seems to make the difference. I should take it a little easier or I won’t be finishing. I have just a page or so over 100 typescript pages done out of 600. I have five times as much work left to do as I have done already, so I must conserve strength because I do want to do this novel and finish it this time. Must get no fatal feelings about it. Change from Shawnee to Sallisaw [Ed.—Oklahoma]. Make earth red, not grey—and above all I must take my time. That is the most important of all. Take it easy. I don’t mean to write less or less forcefully but to keep the frantic quality out of my approach. Well it is time for work now. Now the day’s work is done. The prayer and Al comes home [Ed.—finish of Chapter 8]. Tomorrow the sorting of things to go and this should be a well done thing. I think I’ll play
The Swan
^*
before because there too is the loss of a loved thing of the past. I think I’ll do that. Beth is coming tomorrow and she has done just that. Just that. Sorted over the trappings of her dead life. And so the book moves on steadily, forcefully, slowly, and it must continue to move slowly. How I love it. Dinner with Louis and Mary tonight. Now on to thought. Tomorrow must be poetry.

 

 

Out late last night and Carol mad at me for staying. The house above with its radio blasting has spoiled this place for us completely. Have to fight noise worse than in P.G. [Ed.—Pacific Grove]. That poor little letter in the
Record*
seems to be causing a fuss. Now I’ll be deluged with requests for letters by other magazines. And I can’t do anything about it. Well forget it. That’s best. And some time before too long, forget every thing for always. Feeling low today but not tired or workless. I’ll be early at work. Beth is coming tonight. I’ll get my work done slowly and if she comes before, she won’t mind if I go right on. I don’t know about starting now. I’d just stop for coffee. However, I should start now. Then I can get some time off. And if I had started at 5:30 when I first awakened, I should be through now. Why not maybe a page now. Good idea. 11:15 actual work starts. Wire from Pare. Must see it. Says job for Dick practically assured as far as Washington is concerned. Now back to work. (Actually only half a second page today but the chapter only went that far anyway and there’s nothing I can do about that.) [Ed.—Chapter 9.] I can’t go on. I hope this general is good. It has to be. Read it to Louis. He says it is good. Only half a page though. But that didn’t matter at all.

 

 

Entry #22
June 22 [1938]—11:45 [Wednesday]

Beth came last night. Looks much better than she did and her interests are awakening again. By the end of the summer I think she will be in good shape. She needs not to think too much about anything. But now to work. Little sleep last night. Couldn’t get to sleep. And other things. And today I’ll have to buck into it. Beginning of a particular chapter [Ed.—Chapter 10] and that isn’t so bad. I’ll try to go through with it but for some reason I’m slightly skittish. That does not always mean anything. I’ll just take a running dive at it and set down what happens. Start with Tom and his mother. And works to the return of the men and begins the conference of the men. And the reports and circulars and ads for labor. (Got her done. And I’m afraid she’s a little dull.) Think. Think tonight and tomorrow work harder but get sleep tonight. Need sleep.

 

 

This seems to be the approximate usual time. Good sleep last night and I feel fine and relaxed. I’m not going to work on Saturday this week so that I will get fresh and rested. Something has been hard on me. I don’t know whether the intensity of the work or what. John Street
^*
is in the hospital. We’ll go up to see him tonight. Don’t know what to take him. Cigars maybe. We’ll eat on the way. I go to the dentist at four. After which digression, get back to work. And I feel relaxed about it too. Yesterday was a nervous drive. I notice my handwriting shows that. Beginning at any rate of the conference [Ed.—Chapter 10]. Enter all the rest of my actors. John, Rose of Sharon, Connie, and the two little kids [Ed.—Ruthie and Winfield]. The circle of squatting men and the plans, the order of authority, and the texture of the family. I only expect to crack the surface of this conference today for it is important and should be dealt with at some length. Carol got new dresses today. Glad to see the cracking of the poverty complex. But she does feel a little sinful. Should lose that. It isn’t good. Wrote to Pare today and to Le Roy.* The last about Louis and a trick just to see if it would work. And now I should go to work. And will with a note to follow. (Well, there she is—just the truck coming home with the new people entering, and tomorrow the conference.) And that will be

 

 

Now another day and one to take easy and to finish. I am going to take the Saturday off this week and so I think I will get thoroughly rested. Carol trying out vacuum cleaner this morning. Letter from Tom [Ed.—Collins] with vital information to be used later. He is so good. I need this stuff. It is exact and just the thing that will be used against me if I am wrong. Well today work is to indicate the curious democracy of the larger group. I think the whole day’s work will deal with this conference and maybe spill over into the next day. I must get this down convincingly. The squatting men, the standing women and children. Well anyway the time has come for it. (Done. And I think if no interference I’ll do a page tomorrow.)

 

 

Now it is Monday. And I took two days off and have a little trouble getting into the swing. For one thing Pat
^*
can’t meet royalty payment and is paying one third, with notes for another two thousand. This is all right if it doesn’t indicate that he is in difficulty. That worries me a little but not much. Ed came for the weekend. Good Ed.* We ran down to [Ed.—Pacific] Grove Saturday night to inject 300 hagfish—ugly, slimy brutes, and much better looking full of formaldehyde. That knocked the slime. Ritch and Tal
^*
drove back. They are all coming next Saturday night for the week end of the Fourth. Short story volume [Ed.—
The Long Valley
] comes out in early Sept. It will collapse of course but I’ll be glad to have it out. May sell three or four thousand copies. People looking at the next lot. We really must get out of here. I would love so much to go over to the Aptos country [Ed.—south of Santa Cruz]. Hear the ocean that I love. But must let Carol decide since she lives so much in her environment. Got a mild muscle [Ed.—spasm] in my chest and was dizzy this morning. I don’t know why. This place is getting as noisy as a city lot. There is a lot of talk in the diary this morning—reason is to relieve the tension and get even with myself. Doesn’t matter since I can work later this afternoon. Now for a discussion. Moment I stopped work the drive became sexual. Now the work will take that up. Now today’s work is the pig killing and salting and the loading of the truck and the departure and the capture of Grampa [Ed.—last sections of Chapter 10]. That is at least two days or maybe three, and then the next general is the empty house. Take out the last paragraph of the last general for the next. I’m a little sick today. I don’t know why. I guess that’s why I’m so talkative this week—it is time to go to work and that is all there is to it.

 

 

For all that burst and bally hoo yesterday, I got only a half day’s work done. Must catch it up little by little this week. Didn’t tell Carol. Stomach went to pieces, dizziness, and blind nausea. Dick G.
^*
called and I had to take him to the house from Saratoga. Stayed all night. Result—today’s work not planned out as it usually is. Result—have to work longer hours today. Stomach very sore and me feeling very ill. And that’s the way it is. Dick is still here. He or any one must not come again in the week. Might as well try going to work now and see whether I can’t do a little over the two pages today to start picking up the lost page. I’ll give this day a number depending on how much I make up. Well I caught up half a page and only half more to make it; and four days this week yet to do it so it will be all right I guess. Tomorrow I’ll have [indecipherable] and also the empty houses and the empty land and that will be the end of Book One.