It’s been a day.
Today I found out that the new word for “pleather” is now Vegan Leather.
Here is Billy Wilder’s tombstone from a post by Austin Kleon.
It begins with a glimmer. Maybe I overhear a conversation in a bar. Maybe I pause on a certain, curious detail in the Sunday paper. Maybe I wake up with a dream still churning in my open eyes. I then rush to jot down the idea before it…evaporates. If you say to yourself, ‘I need to remember this later,’ you won’t. So I send myself an email. Or I scratch something down on a napkin. Or I rip out an article with my notes scribbled in the margins. I harvest these glimmers. And pin them up in my office. Near my desk. So that I flirt with them daily. And eventually sometimes weeks later, sometimes months or even years later a few of them glow brightly and I realize how they are connected and they come together like a constellation. And I get to work. Often (especially if it’s a novel) I outline. Sometimes (especially if it’s a short story or an essay) I allow myself to be more impressionistic, chasing a voice, an image. But I always know my endgame. Always. Because when I know my end, everything in the story is building toward that moment, the paragraphs and chapters transferring their momentum, crashing forward like so many dominoes. People are sometimes afraid of the blank page. But if you know your end, even when you’re starting from scratch, there is no blank page. The finish line is in sight you just have to race to get there.”
That is all for today. Talk to you tomorrow.