Читать книгу On Writing - Charles Bukowski - Страница 13

1956

The poem “A Note to Carl Sandburg” remains unpublished; A Place to Sleep the Night was abandoned after Doubleday rejected a few chapters.

[To Carol Ely Harper]

November 13, 1956

The poems you mentioned are still available—I do not keep carbons and so do not recall the poems completely but am particularly pleased with your accepting “A Note to Carl Sandburg.” This is a poem I wrote mostly to myself, not thinking anybody would have the courage to publish it.

I am 36 years old (8-16-20) and was first published (a short story) in Whit Burnett’s Story mag back in 1944. Then a few stories and poems in 3 or 4 issues of Matrix about the same time, and a story in Portfolio. As you know, these mags are now deceased. And, oh yes, a story and a couple of poems in something called Write that came out once or twice and then gave it up. Then for 7 or 8 years I wrote very, very little. It was quite a drunk. I ended up in the charity ward of the hospital with holes in my belly, heaving up blood like a waterfall. I took a 7 pint continuous transfusion—and lived. I am not the man I used to be but I’m writing again.

Received a note from Spain yesterday from Mrs. Hills informing me that one of my poems has been accepted for Quixote. And I am to have some stories and poems featured in the next edition of Harlequin, a new magazine that put out its first copy in Texas and has now moved to L.A. They have asked me to join the editorial staff which I have done. And it is quite an experience; and this is what I have learned: that there are so many, many writers writing that can’t write at all, and they keep right on writing all the clichés and bromides, and 1890 plots, and poems about Spring and poems about Love, and poems they think are modern because they are done in slang or staccato style, or written with all the “i’s” small, or, or, or!!! . . . Well, you see, I can’t join the Experiment Group but I am honored that you might have asked me in. There simply—as you must know from your nervous breakdown—isn’t enough time—I have my trivial, tiring, low-paying job 44 hours a week, and I am going to night school 4 nights a week, two hours a night, plus an added hour or two home work. I am taking a course in Commercial Art for the next couple of years, if I last (this is the night school deal), and besides this, I have just started my first novel, A Place to Sleep the Night. I am being very profuse in telling you all this, so if I don’t send you a couple of one-minute plays, you’ll know why. However, if I know myself, you will get some attempts from me. I don’t think, though, that the play-form stirs me as it should. We’ll see.