Thought Catalog

Being a Writer

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Mid-March, 1983

I had a terrific publication party. The guy who ran the bar said that only James Michener had a better party at this B. Dalton store. I felt, as Ronna suggested, like a bar mitzvah boy, surrounded by people I care about: Alice, Teresa, Ronna, Josh, Mikey and Amy, Larry, Wes, Mark and Consuelo, Stacy and her girlfriend, Pete, Justin, Susan and Spencer, Mrs. Judson and Wayne, Elihu, and so on.

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Mid-February, 1983

Crad wrote that things are pretty rough in Toronto: The weather has been mild, but people here are shriveled up emotionally. They don’t smile the way they did before Xmas. And down in the financial district, they look really sick, mean and pathetic. I’ve been peddling ‘Hot Financial Stories’ with little success . . . During all of January I made about $129. Sometimes I feel like giving up.

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Mid-December, 1982

This fall weather reminds me of the rough times I went through breaking up with Shelli and with Ronna; I’m annoyed with myself for being so vulnerable to Sean. Yet I’m also pleased, in a way, for this means I’m not yet dead emotionally – not if I can still feel these crazy feelings about Sean.

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Late October, 1982

I was asking students to give me an adjective, and after two girls said “little” and “short,” I laughed and said, “You’re looking at me.” I heard Benett say, “Then they would have said faggot.” “That’s a noun,” I told him. “And here’s another noun for you: asshole.” He and a couple of his friends walked out of class.