Mon. 10 Sept 79– finished mad disturbing Miss Herbert then walk in dark with dogs. People’s complex rationalizations for the arcs, crests & troughs of their lives bear no actual relationship to them says Stead, I think I agree. Order & purpose come in a dream – then flash away again. Liked it even better than Dark Places of the Heart. Weird publishe.rs blurb says they themselves don’t understand this novel! Poor Stead!
War with novel struggles out snails’ pace 3 pages. Keep longing to write here like I’m on the verge of some great discovery. Want to read my old diaries – make notes – but that would be a massive undertaking. With NO effect on novel. In the meantime poor T and I continue our struggling course. On Fri. poor Mary Ellen was raped. I told T this was a bad neighborhood! I think I’d be scared if I didn’t have dogs. At least no sodomy or blowjobs. Jan Defres and Mary Ellen left on their vacation early. Told T they should come here when they get back – she should not have to live in that house again. Last night we lay naked face to face kissing and talking about the amazingness of our love. It is amazing. We’re riding a tiger and trying to tame it. SawMarquise of O– came home to delicious steak dinner – took a tour of restored houses. Poor T trying to “sell” me. I pine for our Pennsylvania house. So what is the answer? How does one give true weight to ideas & things? To conservatory to see plants – home for fabulous lovemaking. Good weekend. Tues. 11 Sept 79 – Every day its catalogue. Jan & Mary Ellen to dinner – she has black eye but otherwise seems no different. Does not disparage house. Mom sends separate letters to me & T. I feel she is on “his side” not mine. Obviously “living together” is at the heart of all our problems (secretly, she probably thinks its my exhibitionism. Me!) ReadingSelf-Starvationabout how children make enemies of their own bodies in reaction to growing up. Tremble with recognition. Feel so much hostility from Mom – she doesn’t know what we’re doing but surely I’m corrupting T with my awfulness. Mom said things in her letter she could only know from what I wrote to Genevieve. That outlet stopped. Feeling a rush of mature personal power – I’ve moved beyond them. Speechless is a bloody struggle. Writing about things too close to me. Wrote my first seriously bad scene – the adults all together. 3:50 PM– too upset after letter from Gen to write. She has been robbed of her honest feelings – she is just pumping up and down on the merry go round. They obviously think T will get sick of me soon but can’t decide if that is good or bad. My insistence on having a “real relationship” means I’ll never have one! Silly me. Need to do housework – or something – till I feel better. Shouldn’t try to write when feeling despondent. Midnight– Bath & Facial. T beautifully aroused – we made love TWICE. He says I am only girl he ever wanted to marry. Feel even our most terrible problems being slowly overcome. Routine & diet coming under control. Dream of the Rood unsuccessful. 12 Sept 79– Magnificent day only half over. Charting novel – seems “completeable.” Starting research for Demon. No bad mail – no guilt about housecleaning – send off Walt Whitman entry. Sylvia Plat poetic incentive – I can’t put her down. 14 Sept 79– Woke 4 am to tremendous whoosh – hackleberry tree coming in window spreading shimmering shivering glass across floor. Went downstairs – more broken windows –tree leaning against house. Seemed to come out of nowhere. Put on coffee called T at paper. He came home looking so handsome in wheat jeans & fishermen’s sweater with photog from newspaper to take pics. Started calling people 8 am. Insurance doesn’t want to pay so he called his insurance law professor. Trying to read Robt Penn Warren - finished me for novels. The whole thing, after many premature burials, killed stone dead p. 300. Even there it didn’t stop. Can’t blame him for publishing it. Its publishers fault. If this was a woman’s novel they would cream it. Never see the light of day. Retreat to Woolf’s diary where I plan to be for rest of week. 3 p on The Repudiated Journals of Yuna Roe-Smithwhich is a lot of fun. Reading my diaries emotionally draining. The whole Ryder thing is beyond depressing. I had forgotten Mom wanted me to marry Armon and cried over Mrs. S’s phone calls! Horrible Armon! What ashram would I be suffering in now? O, for a trustworthy literary executor instead of more family myth victims. T. and I discuss travel – Portugal, Ireland and the literary tour of Eng. He prepares frightening Goldberg presentation. We will celebrate with Graves couple to dinner – turkey? My piece de resistance of hot, garlicky potato salad. Sat 15 Sept 79 – Insurance will pay. Celebrate one of our many anniversaries with muffins for breakfast. Nice cool fall day – I can wear a sweater! T says after Goldberg he will set up his new study and old study can be our dressing room. Type 10 p without a break – T at library – do my exercises – hand laundry. Novel going uncommonly well except for constant awareness of what I cannot do. Tonight spaghetti & green salad. Didn’t realize I was clenching my jaw as I wrote. Sore. Sun 16 Sept 79– T hands me his mother’s file – tells me I can read it! Found exactly what I need for Alva. Tells kids she was allergic to husband’s sperm!! Ask if I can incorporate T’s letter to his father about StormFall into Speechless. Can’t read African diaries. Forgot I threatened to kill myself. Needed child psychologist in a major way. Were always staggering around blindfolded. No map ever suits the new terrain.
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Alysse Aallyn
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