three day novel writing contests

this box contains ---- crappy novels~ i wrote them all in the last~ lets say eighteen years, they all suck and have failed
novels are incredibly hard to work on, they are huge, time consuming, detailed monsters, which can devour your mind, break your heart and when done right~ change your life

i haven't been able to finish one~ yet
first~ i think i read too much

two~ i think i have to wait awhile, i'm still too young *
this year, next week, labour day weekend, Jake and i are going to lock our selves in the van and enter the Three Day Novel Writing contest, together !

the book i've been outlining for a few weeks now is titled~

Shoulder to cry on

liver is the last of the three day novel contest books i finished, 1999, wow, eleven years ago, it had started out as a novel titled Mitten, which was great, Tanyth and Kevin came upstate to help me, Kevin brought all this holistic magical natural foods and enzymes juices and supplements, we being convinced that the novel was buried inside all of our minds, but we, the thinking selves, held it bottled up, suppressed, vitamin B and super protein drinks were going to unlock the doors, but my computer crashed, sixty pages in~ lost, so i switched to my burnt orange IBM Selectric, Michell came over in silver pants and it rained, the keys malfunctioned, i had a nervous breakdown and threw the machine across the kitchen into the living room~ this book is only eighteen pages long, i think its a love letter to a car

Slut machine gone~
is as stated below, a do it yourself suicide note, manifesto

1996 11:15 pm, Chester NY, i believe~ Adam Snyder and Jake's Mom spent the three day weekend with me, writing~

superperfectbeautiful, 1997
Oxford rd, NY

can't remember a single thing about this book, the weekend or most of my life at all

More On, 1995
this was the first three day writing contest, attempt, me and Clay Suddby, in his little garage for three days mad,
when i came home on the ferry, Jake, when asked by the border police, if i was his father, said, no.

Stupid, Inc. 1996
science fiction time travel craptabulous

alien cocksucking devices~1992
science fiction shitpigs

eleven virgins and a wiseman, January 1991
this was written as a really long letter to Steve Werner~ at the beginning of the first Iraq war, i was unemployed, had just moved to Seattle from Poughkeepsie, we were pregnant and i was, and am an idiot

i had just started painting, all of those huge oil paintings~ this is the first blackblob painting~
the last one, 48"x 48" i broke into pieces and threw into the woods

the cover of Mitten~ Jake and his friends erased most of it, eighty pages or so

i'm still working on Mitten, it's also a piece of shit~ i will never finish it~ you will never read it
this weekend i'm going to try to write another, oh, boy ~

a day in the life of this dad~

took the Paint'n a lot show down today, in the morning light, alone, without the rain
i don't know if this show was pushed over by kids or the wind or both, but it really depressed me
going to look for a new spot on the hill this week, and work on new and improved frames to hold them up, display them and protect them

i do

eat your vegetables

she had a stroke?

5:45 am ferry to Bainbridge Island, looking back at the city as the sun creeps


this secret fairy doorway leads to homelessness, crusty punks and a rail-yard way-out

across the street from the greatest collection of 1960's Ford flatfaced work trucks, visit my blog below to see more monstrous trucks

ZOMBIES !!!!!!!

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