betplom
*plommer*
- Since
- Jan 27, 2010
- Messages
- 29,134
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Besides plommer?
http://bukowski.net/poems/
Do you still go to the races much? Is that something that you've done for a long time?
I went to the racetrack in an attempt to find a substitute for drinking. It didn't work. Then I had drinking and the track. Nobody bothers me at the track. And planning your plays, placing your bets, you find out a great deal about yourself and also about the other people. For instance, knowledge without follow-through is worse than no knowledge at all. It's a good school, although sometimes a boring one, but it keeps you from thinking that you are a writer or whatever you are trying to be.
Can you recall the first thing you had published and how you felt about it?
No, I can't recall. Can remember my first major publication, a short story in Whit Burnett's and Martha Foley's Story magazine, 1944. I had been sending them a couple of short stories a week for maybe a year and a half. The story they finally accepted was mild in comparison to the others. I mean in terms of content and style and gamble and exploration and all that. Got another story accepted about that time in Carese Crosby's portfolio and after that, I packed it in. I threw away all the stories and concentrated upon drinking. I didn't feel that the publishers were ready and that although I was ready, I could be readier and I was also disgusted with what I read as accepted front-line literature. So I drank and became one of the best drinkers anywhere, which takes some talent also.
Why did you leave it so long to go into writing full time, I guess there are a few reasons?
Yes, the drinking. And in between, the bumming between cities, the low-level jobs. I saw little meaning in anything and still have a problem with that. I lived a rather suicidal life, a half-assed life and I met some hard and crazy women. Some of this became material for my later writings. I mean, I drank. There was a bit of a death scene in a hospital, charity ward. I was spewing blood out of my mouth and my ass but didn't go. Came out and drank some more. Sometimes if you don't care whether you die or not, it can be hard work going. Then two and one half years as a letter carrier and eleven and a half years as a postal clerk didn't exactly give me a zest for life either. At the age of 50, twenty years ago, I quit my job and decided to become a professional writer, that is, one who gets paid for his scribblings. I figured either that or skidrow. I got lucky. I still am.
http://bukowski.net/poems/
Do you still go to the races much? Is that something that you've done for a long time?
I went to the racetrack in an attempt to find a substitute for drinking. It didn't work. Then I had drinking and the track. Nobody bothers me at the track. And planning your plays, placing your bets, you find out a great deal about yourself and also about the other people. For instance, knowledge without follow-through is worse than no knowledge at all. It's a good school, although sometimes a boring one, but it keeps you from thinking that you are a writer or whatever you are trying to be.
Can you recall the first thing you had published and how you felt about it?
No, I can't recall. Can remember my first major publication, a short story in Whit Burnett's and Martha Foley's Story magazine, 1944. I had been sending them a couple of short stories a week for maybe a year and a half. The story they finally accepted was mild in comparison to the others. I mean in terms of content and style and gamble and exploration and all that. Got another story accepted about that time in Carese Crosby's portfolio and after that, I packed it in. I threw away all the stories and concentrated upon drinking. I didn't feel that the publishers were ready and that although I was ready, I could be readier and I was also disgusted with what I read as accepted front-line literature. So I drank and became one of the best drinkers anywhere, which takes some talent also.
Why did you leave it so long to go into writing full time, I guess there are a few reasons?
Yes, the drinking. And in between, the bumming between cities, the low-level jobs. I saw little meaning in anything and still have a problem with that. I lived a rather suicidal life, a half-assed life and I met some hard and crazy women. Some of this became material for my later writings. I mean, I drank. There was a bit of a death scene in a hospital, charity ward. I was spewing blood out of my mouth and my ass but didn't go. Came out and drank some more. Sometimes if you don't care whether you die or not, it can be hard work going. Then two and one half years as a letter carrier and eleven and a half years as a postal clerk didn't exactly give me a zest for life either. At the age of 50, twenty years ago, I quit my job and decided to become a professional writer, that is, one who gets paid for his scribblings. I figured either that or skidrow. I got lucky. I still am.
