Tag Archives: writing

in the words of mckee.

i started doing this awhile back.
 reading through the always incredibly profound words of robert mckee, i was struck by this one.

“Beyond imagination and insight, the most important component of talent is perseverance—the will to write and rewrite in pursuit of perfection. Therefore, when inspiration sparks the desire to write, the artist immediately asks: Is this idea so fascinating, so rich in possibility, that I want to spend months, perhaps years, of my life in pursuit of its fulfillment? Is this concept so exciting that I will get up each morning with the hunger to write? Will this inspiration compel me to sacrifice all of life’s other pleasures in my quest to perfect its telling? If the answer is no, find another idea. Talent and time are a writer’s only assets. Why give your life to an idea that’s not worth your life?” – robert mckee.


onward, to portland.

i have a black duffel bag slung on the chair next to me. thrown on top of it is a pack of djarums, 15 US dollars and a train ticket. if a 6-pack of beer was poking its head out of the zipper, i’d think my packing was done.
i actually think that’s the makings of a hobo’s bag, or a fugitives. ha, maybe i’m both in some sense. 

at any rate, i’m off to portland tomorrow!
it’s only for 3 days, but even in that, it’s a reprieve from routine. and the short timeline cannot pop my party balloon. i am stoked.

it started out as a trip for writing project research (basically holing up at powell’s books for an entire day) and tumbled into seeing oregon’s truest son, ryan, and my dearest, dearest friends that i met in bali in march.
as soon as word was out that i was coming, melissa and brett offered up their guest room and a keg and brandon and jon were ready to wear their bintang t-shirts and write “reunion party” in permanent marker in their wednesday. 



i love these people.


i love these people.



i love these people.


and i love portland.

tomorrow i’ll pull up to main street station early in the morning, grab my black duffel and hop onto the amtrak cascades to chug, chug, chug my way down to oregon.

freedom comes in all shapes and size. mine looks like a train right now.


my new love, my new Remington.






the Remington. from what i’ve looked up, it’s the Remington Portable #4. they were only produced for two months between november 1931 to january 1932 with under 3,000 being made.

rewind a bit more, and here’s the little history lesson. in 1867, an american guy, sholes, constructed the first practical typewriter. he went on to make another one, with some improvements. a few years later, in 1873, he signed a deal with e.remington and sons, gunsmiths from new york, to manufacture them.
the typewriters were up for sale a year later and renamed the Remington.
Mark Twain bought a Remington. then he wrote a book on it and became the first author to submit a manuscript in type.

maybe i’ll follow suit? ha. i dunno.

but i’ve dreamt of buying an ancient typewriter and sitting at it clicking away on its keys for months and months. i was thinking of how great it would be to be in the middle of africa, in some hut, putting life on paper through the slow one-by-one tapping of ink. my Remington is portable so maybe i will. how old-world would that feel…

at any rate, i am in love with it. i had to wait till my sister woke up to punch my first loud key.
it smells like a forgotten library book or jane austen’s attic; it smells really old. it has yellow, vintage buttons and a british pound key. its little and black and even tings! at the end of a line. it is so, so beautiful. every time i passed it on the floor last night while i was making dinner, i smiled. and sometimes clapped.  

i will write stories and recount adventures and make little notes and … the love affair begins.