NEW ORLEANS - 26 AUGUST, 2001 - Everyone in Casa Matt this week is beat down. It's averaging 106 degrees Fahrenheit in Nawlins and Rod decided to change his name to Manuel Labor. When things get tough, you go back to your old haunts. Mine is roofing. A lot of roofs need work in this town, so despite the heat (I suffered as much in central Texas, when I met my ex-wife) I've gone back up on the roof. My boss is paying me $8 an hour to be a grunt. Matt says that I look more spritely now that I am busting my ass. He confuses spritely for mad-as-hell. Most roofers are. Ask any of them.
As my exhaustion kicks in, Matt suggests that it's time that I wrote a new novel. But I have made that, for better or worse, contingent on finding The Next Woman. I work best for a Muse and none of my former Muses are encouraging me. So I find myself a writer without words. Only other writers can know what that means... It's not pleasant.
I want to believe there's one book left in me, but then that would mean re-embracing the notion that I am still capable of producing a work of fiction that someone might publish. At my best moments I consider that a stretch. I fall back on journalism and dreams of some special inspiration from The Next, The Last Woman...
There is something wrong about this Looking for Love, you might say. The Old Wound just might be too deep...
I sat on our stoop here on Rue Dauphine and saw the reflection of Ernest Hemingway in the window of a van, rather than that of Henry Miller; and that, too, bodes ill. Maybe it's seeing that grey beard that creates the effect.
Let's change the channel.
ABOUT THIS ISSUE
Our new contributor, D.A. BLYLER, has put up a Web page where you can read more of his work. If you've become a fan, I recommend you check it out. (And thanks for the link, D.A.!)
I highly recommend you follow the 10-part series which serves as the valedictory for our long-time commentator KEVIN CAREY. This week he speaks eloquently about the lost art of discourse. I found it interesting and hope you will as well.
IF rumor has it right and I do about one important reportorial piece each year, this year's may be the G21 NEWS feature this week on the journalistic environment in Serbia. This is my piece on media for this year. Give it a look if you have the time.
THE BUTTERFLY IN NEW ORLEANS
Another of my cyclical bouts with The Black Dog settled on me this weekend. It had to do with the writing, of course. And The Next Woman.
But, I guess, most of all it has to do with this last year of destitution and wandering. I thought I would find "Home." I found it, in a way, in Belgrade... but I have begun to wonder if I went there too late. Even here in The Big Easy things have not been what they might have.
There's also the issue of my mother's imminent passing that weighs heavily on my mind. Rather than being liberating, it has created a profound sense of sadness. Who knew?
The lack of a last book -- even the notion that I consider it a last book -- begs the larger question about my whole life...
Matt says just tell the story of all the countries and people I have known. My sister, Rudell, says don't talk about yourself any longer, you've revealed more than enough. Write a new detective novel, she says, you're good at that.
For me, no words are coming.
I have this one roiling scenario for a screenplay. It's me as funny. It opens with a man chasing down a bad driver, smashing his windshield with a baseball bat and then handing him the bat. "Go ahead!" he yells, "Smash the rest of your whack-ass car. I really want you to do this." Then he pulls a weapon. "The bullet wants you to do this, too!"
And that's NOT my usual frame of mind, funny as that screenplay might be. It doesn't mesh with my butterfly soul...
That's when I remember that there are a lot of bridges in New Orleans and maybe I should just accept the last words...
Don't panic.
So I cleaned house today. I'm a neat freak. I thought that organizing my environment (Matt and Caio aren't big on housekeeping) might help to organize my mind and outlook. Then back to pounding the pavement again tomorrow...
I should respond to my new e-mail, too, instead of hiding from the world.
I should seek out The Next Woman.
THINGS I NEED THIS WEEK
1. To be paid to do what I love.
2. Hope.
3. The Next Woman and The Next Novel.
Thanks for coming back this week.
"Work like you don't need the money,
"Love like you've never been hurt,
"Dance like no one is watching..."
Rod
ROD AMIS has published this magazine since 1990. It first appeared as a hardcopy 'Zine. In March, 1996, he launched it here on the Web. Rod was a Contributing Editor at Suite101.com, where he wrote the " 'Net Publishing" feature. His work has been featured in the San Francisco Bay Guardian Online, NRV8, and at WebLab's Reality Check site. Rod was also a contributing writer on technology for Faulkner Information Services. He wrote Web issues for MethodFive.com's Hyper newsletter.
Rod was a columnist for the Andover News Network, where he wrote over two hundred articles on web design and development issues. He was also principal writer and Editor for IT Manager's Journal, where he reviewed technology issues weekly, producing 383 editorials. He became the Managing Editor for Electronic Mail/Newsletter Publications at Andover.net at the end of February, 2000, and left in September of the same year. He was a contributing writer for ACCESS magazine, which appears both on- and offline for 10 million readers in 100 newspapers like the San Francisco Chronicle, New York Post, Boston Herald, Austin American-Statesman, Denver Post and Orlando Sentinel, among others. Rod was the US reporter for Silicon.com, a division of Network Multimedia Television in London, UK, reaching 3.5 million European readers, until May, 2001.
Rod lives in New Orleans, Louisiana, right now. The new home of the magazine. But he plans to return to Serbia next year.
He continues to be committed to integrity, chastity and a dose of humility.
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