CarrollBlog 8.1

We spend our lives learning how to rationalize our imperfect behavior, but let me tell you something: It all boils down to the three sizes of guilt.
When it is small, we can slip it into our pocket and not think about it for the rest of the day. Didn't do your exercises? Or write that letter to your mother? Make the call? Fix the nice soup for the family you had planned? Screw it--the day was hard enough and you did your bit.
Medium-sized guilt doesn't fit into the pocket and must be carried awkwardly in the hand like an iron barbell or, when it's really bad, a squirming live animal. We know it's there every minute, yet still find ways to lessen or shift our discomfort. Having an affair and aren't so nice to your spouse because you're spending too much energy on this new love? Go buy the old love some obscenely expensive, thoughtful gift and what time you do spend together, be so passionate and concerned about them that you glow in the dark.
Large sized guilt either crushes you or bends you so far to the ground that, either way, you're immobilized. No shifting *this* weight and no getting out from under it.
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RE: yesterday's blog entry. WC wrote in and congratulated me on coming back from the dead relatively unscathed. He rewarded me with the following vid:

CarrollBlog 7.31

A smartass "friend" sent me an entry they'd noticed in a rare book catalog. The dealer was selling one of my early novels. Part of his description read, "Carroll lived in Europe in the 1980's and wrote three novels. He returned to the US and died a few years later." I wonder what this dealer thinks when he sees that Carroll has published a whole bunch of new books since he died? Maybe he thinks it's another JC. Or it's the same Carroll, only the guy wrote so much while alive that there have been enough to keep releasing them long after the author was six feet under.
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Frank O'Hara's famous 50 year old poetry collection MEDITATIONS IN AN EMERGENCY was quoted/seen on the season opener of the new TV show MAD MEN. The next day it was #276 at Amazon.com The only 2 reviews said "I saw it on Mad Men last night so it must be good."
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"I am the least difficult of men.
All I want is boundless love."

CarrollBlog 7.30

Here's the latest schedule for the October book tour. The only big change is the Portland event has been canceled and been replaced by one in St. Louis on October 17. They've also added a reading in San Mateo, California. Otherwise, the publisher tells me the rest of these dates and times are fixed:

CarrollBlog 7.29

"People don't want things to make sense. Know why? Because if they did we'd all be in trouble. You drive too fast down the street because it feels good or you're in a hurry. If things made sense, a cop would stop you every single time and give you a ticket. But what happens when a cop *does* stop you? You get angry and say that's not fair! But sure it's fair. It also makes sense. If life made sense we'd either behave ourselves a hell of a lot better or be walking around scared, waiting for the punishment due us for all the bad things we do every day.
"We want life to make sense only when it's to our advantage. Otherwise, it's interesting not knowing what's coming next. Maybe you'll get heads, maybe tails. People do wrong things all the time and get away with it. Good people get their neck broken. Would you prefer it if only the good people got rewarded? How often are you good? How often do you deserve the good *you* get? Wouldn't you rather have an interesting life that a fair one?"

CarrollBlog 7.28

I Knew a Woman
by Theodore Roethke

CarrollBlog 7.27

One of my homework assignments for the revamping of this website (it's coming! it's coming! Wait till you see it!), was to make up a list of frequently asked questions (and answers). I spent last night doing it and it was an interesting exercise. There are things readers want to know about you and certain questions are asked frequently. It got me thinking-- what are some "frequently asked questions" all of us have encountered? As much as you can remember, what questions have you been asked again and again throughout your life? Is there a pattern? Do these questions say anything about you or your life? Do you have answers for them, and if so do those answers come easily or not?
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some questions that S gets a lot:

CarrollBlog 7.26

from an article about the poet Sharon Olds in THE GUARDIAN:

CarrollBlog 7.25

A couple walking hand in hand down the sidewalk. She's wonderful to watch-- totally animated, smiling, laughing, leaning in towards him to tell him secrets, try to make him respond or laugh, pay attention to whatever it is she's saying. Her face is full of joy-- there's no other place she'd rather be on earth than right here, walking in the fine rain with her man. He looks like he just smelled something bad. Stone faced with his mouth in a sort of pout, sort of frown. He's unresponsive to everything about her. No matter what she does, he just glares straight ahead and keeps walking. Then they are gone. I wonder if he is always like this or just today-- he got a piece of rotten news, he's in a bad mood, whatever. I hope so. I hope she's not wasting all that bliss and happy energy on a Mr. Black Hole.

CarrollBlog 7.24

He was talking about someone we know who he absolutely hates. In the middle of his rant I grinned and said, "You're a bitter man than I."
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heard an interesting new maxim, summed up by the acronym-- FIFO: Fit in or fuck off.
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someone else said about a woman who never stops talking-- She can't find the knob to turn off the show.
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http://youtube.com/watch?v=QDNm4y7_2Xw

CarrollBlog 7.23

Do you have clothes that are doomed? Every time you put on that shirt or tie or skirt, it seems like someone spills a drink on it, or you get rained on, or a car splatters you or... I have a suit that cannot be worn half a day without something bad happening to it. The first time I ever had it on-- the first time-- I was being interviewed. The man was very nervous and kept making these jerky, spastic movements with his hands and arms. For some reason a candle was burning on the table between us. At one point the guy swung his arm in a big crazy arc and knocked the burning candle right at me. A ribbon of hot lavender wax went down the arm of the jacket. But that was only the beginning. The next time I wore the suit I put a roller ball pen in the pants pocket and it leaked. The first time this suit went to the dry cleaner it came back with the zipper broken, etc. For some reason that suit is jinxed or hexed or accident-prone or just not liked by the gods. Maybe in its last life it was an enemy uniform and now it's paying back its karmic debt.
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TtJRNyPK-lc&feature=related

CarrollBlog 7.22

The Layers
by Stanley Kunitz

CarrollBlog 7.21

We were each other's big, real hope and luckily recognized it fast. When good fortune pulls up in front of you too quickly, it can make you suspicious. You hesitate before getting in. But both of us had been through enough lonely times to know there were only so many chances at contentment with another person. In other words, don't think too long before acting.
In his 'Letters to a Young Poet,' Rilke copies down one of his correspondent Kappus's poems and sends it back to the young man, saying, 'And now I am giving you this copy because I know that it is important and full of new experience to rediscover a work of one's own in someone else's handwriting. Read the poem as if you had never seen it before, and you will feel in your innermost being how very much it is your own.

CarrollBlog 7.20

It was very early in the morning and I was walking the dog in the park. Of course the place was empty because it's Sunday and who the hell else is up this early on Sunday morning in a park? The dog was sniffing around and my mind was elsewhere. Vaguely realizing someone was walking towards me, I focused on the young man in his middle twenties, decently dressed, holding his wallet in his hand and looking inside it for something. I looked away, not interested. When he passed me he said in English in a furious growl "I will kill you if it's the last thing I ever do on this earth." I looked at him, stunned. He stared right back, eyes furious. I pulled the dog's leash and moved on. As I was leaving the park he shouted "I swear to God I'll kill you!"

CarrollBlog 7.19

It always makes me smile when reading a review of one of my books, a reviewer will say "the problem is you could see that event/relationship/conclusion coming miles away," or something to that effect. It's amusing because whatever I'm writing, I have no idea what is going to happen from page to page, literally. The fact Joe kills Shmo at the end of the story is as much a surprise to me as hopefully it is to the reader. The irony of course being the critic could see "it" coming ten miles away whereas in all honesty I promise I didn't. The critic could argue that because such and such happened, then Z was the logical outcome of those events, therefore they could predict it would happen. That's fine if you're thinking logically, but I believe most artists don't think as logically when they are creating as people would like to believe. They "think" more with their hearts than with their heads and as we know, emotion is notoriously illogical. That is why the art we like is often new and compelling-- because it's showing us a view of life, the world, or humanity that we haven't seen before (in our logical view of things) although the elements that comprise it are very much a part of our every day.

CarrollBlog 7.18

from a new story:

CarrollBlog 7.17

Line of the day-- I did someone a favor and they said thanks, I'll worship you till the end of the week.

CarrollBlog 7.16

http://www.designspongeonline.com/2008/07/young-artists.html

CarrollBlog 7.15

IN SUMMER
by Jay Leeming

CarrollBlog 7.14

Now that it's summer I see him almost every night at the crummy pizzeria. He has his outside stammtisch (reserved table) right beside the door. The owners of the place, an Indian family, treat him especially well because he is their only constant customer. You rarely see people from the neighborhood at the restaurant because their food really is bad and most of us know that by now. But the owners are nice people and I am always glad to see their tables filled. He only seems to drink wine. I have never seen him eating although he stays through dinnertime well into the evening. You can only guess at how much he drinks every night to stay there hour after hour watching the movimenti on the street. I walk the dog past that place and without thinking check to see if he is there. He always is and it makes me feel better. He's in his place; he's where he wants to be. Often I've wondered who he is and what his life is like. Why is he always alone, and what does he do in the winter? Does he sit inside this restaurant then too, or in a more cozy cafe somewhere in the neighborhood? He never reads anything and never seems to talk to anyone. If we make eye contact he glances a moment at me and then spends more time looking at my dog. And now I am wondering what he would think if he knew I was writing about him tonight for you, the only audience he will ever have.

CarrollBlog 7.13

MAN IN A LIGHTED ROOM AT SUNDOWN
by Jay Leeming

CarrollBlog 7.12

"The line of a man's neck can change your life. The way he digs in his pockets for change can make your heart groan and hands grow cold. How he touches your elbow or the button that is not closed on the cuff of his shirt are demons he's loosed without ever knowing it. They own us immediately. He was a thoroughly compelling man. I wanted to rise to the occasion of his presence in my life and become something more than I'd previously thought myself capable of. "

CarrollBlog 7.11

There was a homemade sign up on the wall of the cafe. One of those signs you can make with colored paper, a computer that has lots of fonts, and a printer that does photographs. It announced he had died a few days ago in a small Carinthian town after a long illness. I looked at the picture and instantly recognized him. He always seemed to be in that cafe whenever I visited. One of those late middle aged men who look ill, smoke way too much, are unslovenly but not exactly dirty, and who flirt with whatever waitresses are on duty that day. They all know him and you can tell they half like him, half don't. He was loud and when he spoke he often looked around to see if anyone in the cafe was listening to him. I saw him there so often that after a few years we tipped each other a nod when we'd make eye contact. I distinctly remember the last time I saw him which wasn't long ago. I remember because that day he was wearing a spotless white suit, shirt, and a colorful tie. He looked like he was at a cocktail party in the tropics somewhere. I'd never seen him dressed up and wondered what was going on. A few minutes later a woman came out of the toilet and sat down at his table. It was the first time I had ever seen him with a woman and he emanated happiness. I wondered if she was his wife, his girlfriend, friend... After a while they bustled out of there obviously on their way to some event. The two waitresses working that day caught each others' eyes and smiled. They were happy for him.
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http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=QMJMsIaRYDQ

CarrollBlog 7.10

That funny cross-eyed look people get when they are sending or reading a message on their cellphone.
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Why do so many old men choose to wear white loafers and enormous eyeglasses?
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"All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others who we are."

CarrollBlog 7.9

"Everyone has a house inside them. It defines who they are. A specific style and form, a certain number of rooms. You think about it all your life-- what does mine really look like? But only once do you get a chance to actually see it. If you miss the chance, or avoid it because it scares you, then it goes away and you'll never see it again."

CarrollBlog 7.8

One of the many nice perks of summer is by leaving your windows open all the time, sounds from outside come to visit that you never hear during colder seasons when everyone's windows are closed. Recently someone nearby has been playing the accordion. They are very accomplished and it is usually in the style of that wonderful jaunty, yet sweetly sad French accordion music in the film AMELIE, or French films of the 1930's and 40's. Once in a while the musician switches to the crazy-fast Balkan style that Roma groups like 'Fanfare Ciocarlia' play, but usually they stick with the French. Sometimes I find myself unconsciously stopping cold whatever I'm doing and just listening to the person play the hell out of that instrument-- like right now while it rains hard outside and the sky is very dark in the middle of the day. Hard rain accompanied by French accordion music.
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Hide your heart under the bed and lock your secret drawer.
Wash the angels from your head-- won't need them anymore.
Love is a demon and you're the one he's coming for.

CarrollBlog 7.7

For all you folks who are social networking fans/members, in gearing up for the relaunch of this website LIGHTCAGE has created JC pages on both Facebook and MySpace which will have lots of book and tour info, discussions, etcetera on them for whoever is interested. Have a look and join if you're inclined.

CarrollBlog 7.6

Here's a great true story: In Inner Mongolia a developer named Cai Jiang, a true descendant of Genghis Khan, has made a fortune on China's recent building boom. Now he has decided to create a paradise in the middle of that inhospitable desert. As part of it, he has hired one hundred of the best young architects from around the world and said to them design a house. That's it-- no restrictions, no rules, just create a house that you think would fit into this terrain. He brought them all to the area for a look around, and then said you have carte blanche to design a single family dwelling. Whatever you come up with, I will build it. He then enlisted China's most revered artist, Ai Weiwei, to oversee the project and expects to have this part of his grand vision completely finished in three years.
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iTef0HWbW_M&NR=1
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UZxPbcR8k5E

CarrollBlog 7.5

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NKNxaURawP8

CarrollBlog 7.4

The Rider
by Naomi Shihab Nye

CarrollBlog 7.3

I don't know about you, but when I think back on certain books I've read, I often remember the circumstances or the places I read it more than the book itself. In some cases I can't even remember the plot beyond certain basics, but can clearly see where I was and how I felt when reading it: that horrible hot airport where the flight kept getting delayed and the only thing to do was read this stupid thriller. Or the perfect table outside at a small cafe in the middle of Switzerland one summer where all I did was drink coffee, read Salter's "Light Years," and now and then look up to watch the yellow chestnut trees rustle in the breeze. The enormous blue Mark Helprin novel in a dumpy but wonderful rooming house in Greece. Reading Edward Gorey's "The Unstrung Harp" for the first time on a very rainy November day, so caught up in what I was reading and seeing that the 2nd Coming could have happened around me but I wouldn't have noticed. Proust had his matelot to remind him of his childhood. Books do the same thing for me.

CarrollBlog 7.2

One boyfriend she broke up with said he knew things were going wrong between them the way you know your shoelace is untied before you look--a sort of loosening and slight shoe wobble that makes you check. 'I basically knew it was over when I started feeling that same kind of loose wobble between us, you know?' She was more hurt by his description of them that way than she was by the fact he no longer wanted to be together. But she also knew he was right. Shoes have no secrets and neither do shoelaces, tied or otherwise. No passionate other woman was lurking in their shadows ready to leap out and scream Ah Ha! No operatic cri de coeurs that led to wrenching cathartic emotional scenes where the truth finally flooded out because too many dark secrets and words had been left unsaid until that moment. No, to him their relationship was an untied shoe and by extension, she was a shoelace.
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Death watches. So if you have some happiness, conceal it. And when your heart is full, keep your mouth shut also.