Tuesday, April 10, 2007

I'm not going to write much for awhile, may be for a long time

I've written I think six books and a lot of pages that were never published.

But as time has passed I do not write much anymore.

I would like to say something wonderful and sophisticated about how it is the publishing industry, how I am disillusioned with agents and publishers.

But that would not be true.

I think I started writing because my parents and the people around me would not listen to me speak.

I think I spent the first 23 years of my life without anyone ever actually listening to me talk.

The Human War is kind of about that, everyone is speaking and no one is listening.

There was no communcation.

And I had to communicate.

And I thought perhaps if I wrote it down and sent it out to the world there would be people out there who would listen.

I felt very voiceless.

I still feel voiceless.

But not in the same way.

My life is different now.

Those people who refuse to listen, who were so succumbed by their herd thoughts that the very concept of taking in any information was impossible are gone now.

Now there are people around that listen when I talk and who I enjoy listening to, that surround me.

It is like this, I felt like my parents and the people around me were walls, huge thick metal walls with guards at the towers shooting down at me. And that was the catalyst for why I wrote.

To break down those walls.

There are no walls anymore.

My feet are free.

No walls surround me now.

No one terrorizes me now.

When I walk to the kitchen, I walk to the kitchen and get myself a drink. I pick up the drink and bring it to my lips, and swollow the cold soda and it feels good.

When the spring wind hits me, it hits me, i let it hit me, it feels good.

When the sun shines, I point my face to the shinning sun, the rays hit my face, and I like this.

When a kid at work tells me his family won't speak to him on Easter because he is gay, I know what to say, I say, "Well, I think you are a nice person." And I know I am not alone and I let him know he is not alone, he is up against some metal walls himself.

Someone tells me, "They are going to do an operation on my leg, they are going to cut out a bump and test if it cancer or not."

I don't tell that about God, or anything, but politely say I hope everything goes all right. And always make sure to ask about it. Because I care, and I want him to know it.

And Bernice has two nephews and a niece and they have no dad because he is a crack head and in prison. So I go over there and we do things together. not because of duty, but because I think they are nice kids and are fun to spend time with.

I will write randomly as the mood takes me. I have no doubt of that.

But, I don't know, I'll leave you with this:

Elwood P. Doud: Harvey and I sit in the bars... have a drink or two... play the juke box. And soon the faces of all the other people they turn toward mine and they smile. And they're saying, "We don't know your name, mister, but you're a very nice fella." Harvey and I warm ourselves in all these golden moments. We've entered as strangers - soon we have friends. And they come over... and they sit with us... and they drink with us... and they talk to us. They tell about the big terrible things they've done and the big wonderful things they'll do. Their hopes, and their regrets, and their loves, and their hates. All very large, because nobody ever brings anything small into a bar

Elwood P. Doud: Well, I've wrestled with reality for 35 years, Doctor, and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it.

Elwood P. Doud: Years ago my mother used to say to me, she'd say, "In this world, Elwood, you must be" - she always called me Elwood - "In this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant." Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. You may quote me.


Susan Miller said...

And just for old time's sake, Noah, I would like to say, "I'm glad we had this time."

MadisonGlass said...

I'm sad. What am I going to do all day. You were so nice and so interesting. This blows.

When I was in Jr High, new to the school and all, I was too quiet for anyone to hear me in class. We'd have seminars and no one would hear me; they'd talk over me and it was defeating. (I wasn't very assertive around that time; overly nervous.) And then one day I decided to stand up. Whenever I wanted to speak, I stood up and people stopped talking. After a while realized that I had good things to say, if I had anything to say at all. I guess I was worth listening to back then. I had ideas and everything. Now my mind is deteriorating. I can't explain anything and my writing is obscure and mad and it's good, I think, sometimes, but it is obvious I've given up on clarity and audience and all I can do is function except when I can’t function. If I can, I write anything at all.

I started to write because a teacher thought I was being abused by my parents. I was a problematic kid. All through school, teacher's tried to figure out what might be wrong with me. I was brilliant they said, but something was obviously wrong. Neither was true. I don't think either was true. Anyway, this teacher told me that, "sometimes, when we can't properly express our feelings, writing helps to get them out." That didn't happen. I wrote fiction. Mostly I wrote fiction about using my negative emotions and violence into something good and helpful. It was sad. I was seven. I think I was seven. But kids liked it. Whenever I wrote a new chapter of my "chapter book," they all stopped to listen.

Maybe a lot of writers write to be heard.

This poem was too long. And self-centered. I was trying to sympathize. I am very bad at this. Or too good at this. Depending.

Anyway. I'll miss you. Really miss you.

Damn it.

adam said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
adam said...

All right. I loaned out Treatise to a guy I know at school, and I'm thinking of passing around my copy and others to people I know at GCC. In the next couple of weeks or so, I'll probably buy another copy, maybe also of The Human War, and start passing those around. (If you're absolutely certain I can buy a copy of The Condemned, please let me know how, I'm having a hell of a time with that.)

I'm glad you're happier about your current situation, but I really like your books. I think other people should read them. The guy I loaned Treatise to is a foster kid, he's in a good situation now but before was generally more fucked than I've been in my life, and most mainstream books never really describe fucked people or talk about things fucked people care about. He's just one of a few people who I think will like it.

Anonymous said...

I think Noah said that he was going to take a writing break not a blogging brake. Am I right Noah? Well I'm not worried, because Noah is a writer, and writers can't go that long without putting pen to paper. And if writers are not writing on paper, well they a million stories spinning in their head and someday, they will just spill out.


asshole said...

Right. Noah's got more comebacks in him than Jerry Rice.

You guys are idiots to fall for this BS.

adam said...

With me, It's kind of like how I think of Jay-Z. He can "retire," but you know that sooner or later he'll come back, and yeah, probably sooner than later. But while accepting that, I'm also accepting that that's what he means when he posts. I've said I reserve the right to decide when I need to change my mind, so why not let someone else have that right?

MadisonGlass said...

I'm not doing so well. Thanks for calling me a fucking idiot for taking things Noah says as honest. I'm a fucking idiot. A fucking, fucking idiot.

Anonymous said...

Madison is so cute.

raskolnikov said...

dear noah,

i like your writing a lot.

please continue writing.

don't abandon us.

we are your loyal followers, don't quit on us now.

tell tao lin to use some of his connections to get you published in better places, then you'll get excited about writing again.

i like that part in the condemned where you talk about being an underground writer. i'm gonna go read that again right now.

somebody said...