Yesterday, I had fiction workshop.  The professor didn’t show up.  Everyone in the class seemed pissed.  The class meets once a week.  Yesterday was supposed to be our fourth meeting.  We haven’t ‘workshopped’ anyone’s story yet.  Next Monday is Columbus Day.  We do not have class.  I think a lot of people in our class are beginning to think, “MFAs are bullshit.”  I still feel pretty optimistic about MFAs even though my 7-11/Angus Burger novel feels shitty.  I like the idea of writing shitty novels.  I am trying to write eight novels at once.  I will feel satisfied if people say, “This is the worst construct a brain has ever created,” after they finish reading my novel.  It would feel like my novel was an accomplishment if I wrote the worst book of all time.  In some ways I’d rather not have anything I write be workshopped.  It would be funny to never workshop a single piece of my writing while in an MFA.  Improvement doesn’t seem that important.  My dad seems okay.  I feel like I’m on a direct path to consume my father’s life.  One of the poets will probably laugh and think, ‘Dad poem!’ if he reads the previous sentence.  Mostly, I think, ‘Everything doesn’t matter.’   I was walking down the street yesterday and said, “you remember that movie with bill murray?”  Anyway, I really like the Brown MFA.  I like having the time to write eight novels at the same time.  I could care less if they ever got workshopped.  I’m not concerned with the quality of the writing.  Quantity feels more important.  I want people to call me the buffet writer.  Today I woke up at 4am and started writing a new novel.  It is called, ‘small red goat’.  It is about a small red goat.

The eight novels I am working on:

1.  a novel that’s supposed to be about bears.  It’s about how no one should write a book about bears.  2.  a novel about a striped bass.  I began writing this on my cell phone when I was at the Providence Mall yesterday.  It is only 45 words long.
3.  Fuckface vs. Fuckface: This novel is about two people named ‘Fuckface’.  Not sure yet if they fall in love at the end.
4.  7-11 does not sell Angus Burgers: This novel is about 7-11 and McDonalds.
5.  Christmas part 25: An autobiography of Jimmy Buffet or a novel is about celebrating Christmas.  I like Christmas.
6.  Dear Mother, I’m Hitchhiking to California:  This is a ‘Mom Novel!’
7.  Small Red Goat:  This is stolen from a story a poet told me about a small red bean.
8.  I think I saw the USA at the mall:  This is a sequel to Ken Sparling’s Dad Says he saw you at the Mall.