• Jack Kerouac (1922-1969) was een Amerikaanse schrijver. Zijn 'Journals 1947-1954' zijn gepubliceerd als Windblown World.ROAD-LOG
WED. 27 — Started "On the Road" with a brief 500 wd. stint of 2, 3 hours duration, in the small hours of the morning. I find that I am "hotter" than ever — tho on closer examination afterwards I figure I may only be over pleased with words, and not structurally sound yet (after a long layoff.) My interest in work is at a high pitch. My aim is to have much of "Road" done, if not all, by the time T & C is published next winter. I quit school today so I can do nothing but write. — Now I want to expand the original 500 words which, in the heat of work, 'discovered' an important opening unity.
THURS. 28 — Stayed home playing with baby, eating, writing letters, walking, movie at night. Some family trouble, not serious — concerning debts. Wrote at night. It appears I must have been learning in the past 8 months of work on Sax, and poetry. My prose is different, richer in texture. What I've got to do is keep the flow, the old flow, nevertheless intact. I think one of the best rules for prose-writing today is to write as far opposite from contemporary prose as possible — it's a useful rule in itself... actually. — Wrote 500 words — (more, actually, but making up for yesterday's miscalculated count.) I figure for the whole novel, right now, at 225,000 words. Some ways off eh?
WED. 27 — Started "On the Road" with a brief 500 wd. stint of 2, 3 hours duration, in the small hours of the morning. I find that I am "hotter" than ever — tho on closer examination afterwards I figure I may only be over pleased with words, and not structurally sound yet (after a long layoff.) My interest in work is at a high pitch. My aim is to have much of "Road" done, if not all, by the time T & C is published next winter. I quit school today so I can do nothing but write. — Now I want to expand the original 500 words which, in the heat of work, 'discovered' an important opening unity.
THURS. 28 — Stayed home playing with baby, eating, writing letters, walking, movie at night. Some family trouble, not serious — concerning debts. Wrote at night. It appears I must have been learning in the past 8 months of work on Sax, and poetry. My prose is different, richer in texture. What I've got to do is keep the flow, the old flow, nevertheless intact. I think one of the best rules for prose-writing today is to write as far opposite from contemporary prose as possible — it's a useful rule in itself... actually. — Wrote 500 words — (more, actually, but making up for yesterday's miscalculated count.) I figure for the whole novel, right now, at 225,000 words. Some ways off eh?
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