{"id":717,"date":"2010-06-09T11:00:22","date_gmt":"2010-06-09T15:00:22","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=717"},"modified":"2014-01-26T22:38:03","modified_gmt":"2014-01-27T03:38:03","slug":"the-culture-diaries-maud-newton","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/06\/09\/the-culture-diaries-maud-newton\/","title":{"rendered":"A Week in Culture: Maud Newton, Writer"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>

Maud Newton<\/p><\/div><\/p>\n

DAY ONE<\/h3>\n

<\/strong><\/p>\n

9:47 A.M.<\/strong> Wake early (for a Sunday). I still haven\u2019t replaced the French press that shattered week before last, so I make tea the Muriel Spark way: warming the pot first, measuring out loose leaves, drinking from china. Absurdly precious, I know, but I give myself a pass because, really, if you\u2019re going to start the day without coffee, you\u2019re going to need to distract yourself somehow.<\/p>\n

10:15 A.M.<\/strong> Pick up Memento Mori<\/em> for dialogue inspiration and involuntarily become engrossed again. If I read to the end, that will make four times in as many months.<\/p>\n

10:45 A.M.<\/strong> Open novel draft file on laptop.<\/p>\n

10:48 A.M.<\/strong> Embark on the inevitable Sunday morning boondoggle: the outline is not only possible, but imperative. Purchase and download an iPad note-taking application. Pass an hour training myself to write with index finger.<\/p>\n

11:55 A.M.<\/strong> Outline the story in this fashion.<\/p>\n

12:45 P.M.<\/strong> Email PDF of \u201chandwritten\u201d outline to myself; notice how late it\u2019s getting; castigate myself for wasting weekend writing time.<\/p>\n

1:00 P.M.<\/strong> Return, with egg sandwich, to draft. Assemble revisions and notes. Set MacFreedom to shut down Internet access for four hours. Begin writing.<\/p>\n

\"\"1:45 P.M.<\/strong> Read assorted culture news\u2014new mummies unearthed<\/a>, Mark Twain\u2019s unexpurgated bio to be published<\/a>, oil still pumping unchecked into the Gulf of Mexico\u2014on Twitter.<\/p>\n

2:00 P.M.<\/strong> Half the day is gone now. Resume work on novel; work diligently for four-and-a-half more hours.<\/p>\n

7:00 P.M.<\/strong> Max (husband) suggests leaving the apartment before the sun goes down. We walk to the local market and buy fruit, vegetables, bread, cheese, and chocolate\u2014the five major food groups.<\/p>\n

9:30 P.M.<\/strong> Dread resumption of office job in the morning. Regret all choices and circumstances that have led to necessity of having a day job. Recall A.O. Scott\u2019s hilarious (yet sympathetic) indictment of Generation X in last week\u2019s \u201cWeek in Review<\/a>\u201d piece on Sam Lipsyte\u2019s The Ask<\/em>. Track it down and reread. Reflect on the ultimate pointlessness of trying to escape the slacker mindset.<\/p>\n

9:40 P.M.<\/strong> Begin drinking (bourbon).<\/p>\n

10:45 P.M.<\/strong> Sit down with Max to watch the first episode of the second season of Damages<\/em>, which arrived yesterday courtesy of Netflix.<\/p>\n

11:55 P.M.<\/strong> Get into bed. (So virtuous! So old.) Start into Kingsley Amis\u2019s The King\u2019s English<\/em>, his (out-of-print) guide to modern usage.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

DAY TWO<\/h3>\n

<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"\"7:43 A.M.<\/strong> Ugh, morning, and one too many hits of the snooze button. Make Muriel Spark tea, and drink it while thinking of Damages<\/em> and of Jenny Diski, the novelist and London Review of Books<\/em> critic who\u2019s a fellow fan of the show and whom I once interviewed<\/a> briefly for my website about it.<\/p>\n

8:00 A.M.<\/strong> Perform ablutions, listen to NPR. Oil spill, oil spill, oil spill.<\/p>\n

8:40 A.M.<\/strong> On the way to the subway, remember driving to my late grandparents\u2019 home on the Mississippi Gulf Coast, though Panama City and Mobile out to Biloxi and Gulfport. If you hit Pass Christian, you\u2019d gone too far. Even in the eighties, the coast seemed ruined to me, a Miamian, with its gray surf and tar balls and the netted preserves set up along the beach to protect nesting least terns from oil. It\u2019s strange to feel nostalgic for a place I never really liked all that much. All the way to the train, listen to Jimmy Buffett\u2019s \u201cDown Around Biloxi\u201d and his version of \u201cStars Fell on Alabama\u201d on repeat.<\/p>\n

8:50 A.M.<\/strong> Board train. Jot down a few more thoughts about Buffett and the spill and the \u201cRedneck Riviera\u201d for an Awl piece I\u2019ve been working on.<\/p>\n

9:00 A.M.<\/strong> Start to skim New York Times<\/em> headlines. More oil spill. Put away phone.<\/p>\n

9:03 A.M.<\/strong> Open The Essential Rebecca West<\/em>, a collection of the now-forgotten novelist, critic, and New Yorker writer\u2019s essays, and jump first to the piece on \u201cThe Novelist\u2019s Voice.\u201d<\/p>\n

9:15 A.M.<\/strong> Arrive at work.<\/p>\n

9:20 A.M.<\/strong> Make terrible coffee.<\/p>\n

9:30 A.M.<\/strong> Take a look at today\u2019s tax developments. Plenty to do before today\u2019s 2 o\u2019clock news deadline.<\/p>\n

10:30 A.M<\/strong>. Online grazing.<\/p>\n

10:50 P.M.<\/strong> Work, work, work.<\/p>\n

\"\"1:00 P.M.<\/strong> Go downstairs, buy a salad. Open novel file. Write.<\/p>\n

2:00 P.M.<\/strong> Resume work duties.<\/p>\n

7:00 P.M.<\/strong> Edit novel draft all the way home, while sitting on the first train and then while standing on the second. Once we\u2019re far enough out into Brooklyn, I can sit again.<\/p>\n

7:45 P.M.<\/strong> Open seven packages from publishers.<\/p>\n

8:00 P.M.<\/strong> Home alone tonight. Spicy red lentils, and best effort to date at replicating Khyber Pass\u2019 Panir Sabzee salad: watercress, mint, basil, scallions, radishes, feta, and a thin yogurt dressing that I still can\u2019t get right.<\/p>\n

8:30 P.M.<\/strong> While eating, continue reading Amis\u2019s The King\u2019s English<\/em>.<\/p>\n

9:00 P.M.<\/strong> Tinker with draft of Awl piece, which isn\u2019t coming together.<\/p>\n

10:00 P.M.<\/strong> Novel, novel, novel.<\/p>\n

11:30 P.M.<\/strong> Light blogging.<\/p>\n

12:30 A.M.<\/strong> More Amis. He regrets the loss of \u201cfortnight\u201d to \u201ctwo weeks,\u201d but is only mildly withering about it, saying the replacement \u201cis less idiomatic and duller but as always gives everybody one less word to remember and is at any rate American.”<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

DAY THREE<\/h3>\n

<\/strong><\/p>\n

7:43 A.M.<\/strong> This tea rigamarole is too much effort for too little stimulant on a weekday morning. Why in God\u2019s name haven\u2019t I ordered a new French press yet?<\/p>\n

8:00 A.M.<\/strong> BP\u2019s latest plans for combatting the oil spill make Carl Hiassen\u2019s idea\u2014plugging the hole with oatmeal<\/a>\u2014sound clever.<\/p>\n

\"\"8:40 A.M.<\/strong> On the train I read \u201cAgreeable<\/a>,\u201d the latest excerpt from Franzen\u2019s forthcoming novel.<\/p>\n

9:10 A.M.<\/strong> This morning\u2019s coffee flavor: French Roast. I swear, it\u2019s like choosing between the cherry and orange fluoride at the dentist.<\/p>\n

9:15 A.M.<\/strong> Today\u2019s tax developments. A case, a couple of laws, and some nexus provisions I need to revisit.<\/p>\n

11:30 A.M.<\/strong> Online grazing again.<\/p>\n

12:00 P.M.<\/strong> Back to the tax law.<\/p>\n

1:00 P.M.<\/strong> Venture out to buy a Bahn Mi and Vietnamese coffee. I get lucky and am in and out during a lull.<\/p>\n

1:15 P.M.<\/strong> Eat the sandwich and drink the elixir\u2014yum!\u2014and work on the novel. I\u2019ve written this dinner scene at least twenty different ways over the years, and now that I\u2019ve cut it down by three-quarters, I think it might be working. Or maybe I\u2019m just hopped up on caffeine.<\/p>\n

2:15 P.M.<\/strong> Corporate income tax nexus research. I\u2019d be happy to explain what this means, but you\u2019d stop reading.<\/p>\n

\"\"7:30 P.M.<\/strong> Sl\u00e1inte on the Bowery with Alex and Lindsay. We start drinking before the greasy snacks I\u2019ve ordered arrive, and soon I am drunk, although I\u2019ve only had two glasses of wine. Already my upper lip is going numb and I\u2019m intermittently shrieking in the Floridian-Texan-Southern accent I semi-jokingly slide into with friends on these occasions. We\u2019re gossiping about people we mutually loathe, so all is well, but I am already aware of the need to modulate my voice and try to keep the gesticulations to a minimum.<\/p>\n

9:30 P.M.<\/strong> Four glasses. Lindsay: \u201cMaud, when you publish a book, you\u2019ll like everyone.\u201d Me, imperiously waving (and sloshing) drink for emphasis: \u201cNo, I won\u2019t.\u201d Alex, calmly, matter-of-factly, amusedly, exhaustedly: \u201cYeah, no, she won\u2019t.”<\/p>\n

10:45 P.M.<\/strong> Five glasses. I\u2019m too woozy when the check arrives to prevent Alex from handing over his credit card; I think of getting up and chasing down the server, but I\u2019m afraid I will trip or won\u2019t be able to compute the tip and sign my name. Thanks, Alex. It\u2019s on me next time.<\/p>\n

11:00 P.M.<\/strong> Somehow manage to board train with Lindsay. Drunkenly regale her with \u201cideas\u201d for television show we can write together.<\/p>\n

12:10 P.M.<\/strong> At home, Max very kindly tolerates my drunken monologue. Needless to say, no further writing gets done. On Kingsley Amis\u2019 theory that you can\u2019t really be that intoxicated if you remember to hydrate and take aspirin, I pour myself water and carry it and some pills to my bedside. Then I fall asleep without making use of either and with my glasses still on.<\/p>\n

Check back tomorrow for the second installment of Maud Newton’s Culture Diary. Newton<\/a> won the 2009 Narrative Prize for an excerpt from her forthcoming novel, <\/em>Generational Curses.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

DAY ONE 9:47 A.M. Wake early (for a Sunday). I still haven\u2019t replaced the French press that shattered week before last, so I make tea the Muriel Spark way: warming the pot first, measuring out loose leaves, drinking from china. Absurdly precious, I know, but I give myself a pass because, really, if you\u2019re going […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":13,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[23],"tags":[114,115,111,110,109,112,113],"class_list":["post-717","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-the-culture-diaries","tag-blogger","tag-food","tag-freedom","tag-jonathan-franzen","tag-maud-newton","tag-novel","tag-writer"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nPart One of a Week in Culture with Writer Maud Newton<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"June 9, 2010 \u2013 DAY ONE 9:47 A.M. Wake early (for a Sunday). 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