Midnight at the Starlight Deluxe

The Starlight Deluxe is an imaginary diner, there might be a real one somewhere, but this made-up one, is mine. For a while I dedicated a second webpage to it. In the last few days, it’s a place that’s on my mind quite a bit, one that I’ve drawn several ideas from for the books/projects I hope to be working on through the long winter months ahead. I’m looking for a spot to fit that line in somewhere here on this page, It’s always midnight at The Starlight Deluxe… perhaps in a widget.

An exceptionally busy year so far, this summer particularly so. Good thing I wrapped up my previous writing projects early because I wouldn’t have had time to finish them now. Really, I’ve been experiencing something of a funk since returning from a vacation. Last night I stayed up exceptionally late writing a poem inspired by Janis Joplin’s loneliness. There’s an anecdote that Patti Smith tells about Janis in “Just Kids” that I found to be particularly heartbreaking, inspired a considerable amount of empathy. There was a photo of Joplin making the rounds last night, got me writing. In the process of that, however many tears later, it pulled me out of my own case of the blahs. I read something the other day, I don’t know what it was or where I put it, about how we, society, doesn’t necessarily hold the “artistic process” in the same regard we once did. I’m not going to go off on a lengthy ramble about that but suffice it to say I’m neither a zombie nor a robot. (really.) On one hand, there’s the practical mechanics of being a writer, you’ve got to be able to put your butt in the chair and write the story because that’s the job, (that’s an over simplification), on the other hand, there is a creative process happening, there’s a working through things going on sometimes. Editing one’s own writing clarifies how/that we also edit our lives, ourselves, like and dislikes, preferences, honing, whittling, refining, and so on. For the last several years I’ve been learning new things about writing, about genre, about form, about classifications based on word count/story length, etc., keeping in mind that I was for most of my life primarily a poetess, and really, had generally eschewed any ideas of writing anything else. So I’ve been learning. I’ve been pushing some of my own boundaries with my work. While in the midst of all that, it would be accurate to say that I’ve not only been in the process of rebuilding my life, but myself. Those things are a process, figuring out what I really want to spend my time on. So, in the early morning hours, I wrote something new, and emerged from a couple of weeks of not feeling too great. Ready to get moving forward again.

I feel good about the Janis ode, “It’s Me, Pearl.” I’d share it up right now, you know I would, but truthfully, it was tough for me to get at and I feel too close to it as yet. I might work on it some.

TS