up. Now today’s work is the pig killing and salting and the loading of the truck and the departure and the capture of Grampa [Ed.—last sections of Chapter 10]. That is at least two days or maybe three, and then the next general is the empty house. Take out the last paragraph of the last general for the next. I’m a little sick today. I don’t know why. I guess that’s why I’m so talkative this week—it is time to go to work and that is all there is to it.
Entry #26
June 28 [1938]—9:20 [Tuesday]
For all that burst and bally hoo yesterday, I got only a half day’s work done. Must catch it up little by little this week. Didn’t tell Carol. Stomach went to pieces, dizziness, and blind nausea. Dick G. * called and I had to take him to the house from Saratoga. Stayed all night. Result—today’s work not planned out as it usually is. Result—have to work longer hours today. Stomach very sore and me feeling very ill. And that’s the way it is. Dick is still here. He or any one must not come again in the week. Might as well try going to work now and see whether I can’t do a little over the two pages today to start picking up the lost page. I’ll give this day a number depending on how much I make up. Well I caught up half a page and only half more to make it; and four days this week yet to do it so it will be all right I guess. Tomorrow I’ll have [indecipherable] and also the empty houses and the empty land and that will be the end of Book One.
Entry #27
June 29 [1938]—11:30 [Wednesday]
Late start today and for no reason at all. Grey day and wind. Carol going to S.J. [Ed.—San Jose] for hair wave. Going to see John [Ed.—Street] in hospital tonight. Bill Richardson wants to come down to discuss new S.F. [Ed.—San Francisco] Chronicle magazine. Wants to see Louis. Louis dedicating his new book to us. * Very flattered. It is a good book. Will see him tonight. Went yesterday to see some land. Beautiful but impossible. Too remote and too many difficulties. What a view though! Lots of things happened. Now to the work. Book One is coming to a close—one more day—today of particulars and one of general and it is closed. I’m tired and a little fed up. I think the new line will ease me out of it. Lots of sleep last night. Afraid of repetitiousness. Must watch that. And I really am doing a great number of words a day. Well, it is time to get to it. Time passes. But I have plenty of time. My system is collapsing towards the end of Book One. Just finished chap [Ed.—Chapter 10]. No more. Tomorrow the general. Then the first book will be done in a little over a month.
Entry #28
June 30 [1938]—11:15 [Thursday]
End of Book One
My system of time has indeed collapsed. Today—the last day of June and I have finished in one month Book One, the background of this novel. One general chapter today and it will be a short one, too. The empty and deserted houses [Ed.—Chapter 11]. Yesterday the work was short and I went over the whole of the book in my head—fixed on the last scene, huge and symbolic, toward which the whole story moves. And that was a good thing, for it was a reunderstanding of the dignity of the effort and the mightyness of the theme. I felt very small and inadequate and incapable but I grew again to love the story which is so much greater than I am. To love and admire the people who are so much stronger and purer and braver than I am. This morning a letter from Barry saying his group was non partisan,* and I wrote back to place myself on record as partisan to the common people. There can be left no doubt of that. And now the sun is shining and the birds, 50 different kinds, are singing in the trees outside my window, and the woods are green and beautiful. It is a good day in which to finish the first book. I have all of my people in whom I shall use, some of them well described. I hope all of them alive because they must live. Carol is washing now. I thought I would
Entry #26
June 28 [1938]—9:20 [Tuesday]
For all that burst and bally hoo yesterday, I got only a half day’s work done. Must catch it up little by little this week. Didn’t tell Carol. Stomach went to pieces, dizziness, and blind nausea. Dick G. * called and I had to take him to the house from Saratoga. Stayed all night. Result—today’s work not planned out as it usually is. Result—have to work longer hours today. Stomach very sore and me feeling very ill. And that’s the way it is. Dick is still here. He or any one must not come again in the week. Might as well try going to work now and see whether I can’t do a little over the two pages today to start picking up the lost page. I’ll give this day a number depending on how much I make up. Well I caught up half a page and only half more to make it; and four days this week yet to do it so it will be all right I guess. Tomorrow I’ll have [indecipherable] and also the empty houses and the empty land and that will be the end of Book One.
Entry #27
June 29 [1938]—11:30 [Wednesday]
Late start today and for no reason at all. Grey day and wind. Carol going to S.J. [Ed.—San Jose] for hair wave. Going to see John [Ed.—Street] in hospital tonight. Bill Richardson wants to come down to discuss new S.F. [Ed.—San Francisco] Chronicle magazine. Wants to see Louis. Louis dedicating his new book to us. * Very flattered. It is a good book. Will see him tonight. Went yesterday to see some land. Beautiful but impossible. Too remote and too many difficulties. What a view though! Lots of things happened. Now to the work. Book One is coming to a close—one more day—today of particulars and one of general and it is closed. I’m tired and a little fed up. I think the new line will ease me out of it. Lots of sleep last night. Afraid of repetitiousness. Must watch that. And I really am doing a great number of words a day. Well, it is time to get to it. Time passes. But I have plenty of time. My system is collapsing towards the end of Book One. Just finished chap [Ed.—Chapter 10]. No more. Tomorrow the general. Then the first book will be done in a little over a month.
Entry #28
June 30 [1938]—11:15 [Thursday]
End of Book One
My system of time has indeed collapsed. Today—the last day of June and I have finished in one month Book One, the background of this novel. One general chapter today and it will be a short one, too. The empty and deserted houses [Ed.—Chapter 11]. Yesterday the work was short and I went over the whole of the book in my head—fixed on the last scene, huge and symbolic, toward which the whole story moves. And that was a good thing, for it was a reunderstanding of the dignity of the effort and the mightyness of the theme. I felt very small and inadequate and incapable but I grew again to love the story which is so much greater than I am. To love and admire the people who are so much stronger and purer and braver than I am. This morning a letter from Barry saying his group was non partisan,* and I wrote back to place myself on record as partisan to the common people. There can be left no doubt of that. And now the sun is shining and the birds, 50 different kinds, are singing in the trees outside my window, and the woods are green and beautiful. It is a good day in which to finish the first book. I have all of my people in whom I shall use, some of them well described. I hope all of them alive because they must live. Carol is washing now. I thought I would
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