Journal of a Novel

by John Steinbeck

  April 4, Wednesday

  And now, dear Pat, another day and one of incidents. This is a horrible section of the book but one that is necessary. And I think I want to make it clear that true things quite often do not sound true unless they are made to. Maybe there should be an essay about this. You open the morning paper and you will find a dozen stories of people who have done things which are not true to you because they are not in your experience. Yesterday a grown boy killed both of his parents because they would not let him use the car. You accept that but put it in a story and you would have to use every art to make it acceptable.

  This chapter dealing with the background of Cathy is probably one of the longest in the book. The question of length can only arise if it does not hold interest. I think this holds interest. It is just a question of its necessity but as you read along I think you will see that it is all necessary in the light of what is going to happen. I want to have made a kind of suggestive deadliness about this section.

  I am at work early today and that is a good thing. I am going to get Tom late this afternoon and bring him home. Tomorrow I will take him for an eye test and incidentally one for me also. I think my eyes need a check. Little headaches are starting on a slight sense of strain. So it is time I guess. I’ll keep Tom until Friday. And we will have lessons. He needs lessons. We make it fun and a kind of triumph for him when he wins. Already Gwyn says he is doing better.

  Now, with all the fuss about the picture I don’t know what we are going to do. If the picture is made in the west and they want me there, what will I do? Take the boys? Kazan now says June 3 is his starting date. But to relax and see what happens. Just get my two pages written every day. That’s the best and only thing I can do. Anyway, now the notes are over. And it is time for me to make a couple of calls on the phone and then get to my day’s, work.

  I have just put in a call for you but you are out for coffee. This does not surprise me at all. You are out for coffee a good deal I think.

  Well you finally got back from your coffee. I am glad to hear that the typing is going along all right. It will be good to have typescript but I don’t intend to look at it for a good time, mainly until I get the whole thing done, so there.

  And now the time has come to get back to Cathy.

  Well, that is that part. It should have a shivering effect and perhaps it does. Who knows. It went very fast today. But it is generally going fast I think. Now there is a transition scene coming up and I think at the end of the day’s work tomorrow Cathy will be ready to meet Adam. This is a brutal chronicle but necessary. It is not a pretty story but I think it has vigor. I think my reader knows and still doesn’t know what is going to happen. So tomorrow you will know and, farther than that, you will know what happened after that. That will be the trick. If I can keep the next part casual it will be a triumph because it is the most uncasual story in the world. And the only way to do that well is to make it seem so ordinary that it creeps in on you. That is what I am trying to do with this whole book—to keep it in an extremely low pitch and to let the reader furnish the emotion. If I can do that I will have succeeded. And now that is all for today. I hope you can wait for the next episode. I can hardly wait but my shoulder is sore and my hand is beat up and besides I have come to a natural stopping place. So good-bye.

  April 5 [THURSDAY]

  I don’t know how much I can get done today. Tom is here but Elaine is keeping him downstairs. If I can just get my transition scene done I will be satisfied. Then I can pick it up tomorrow and take Cathy right into Adam’s arms. It is a beautiful day. Perfectly lovely. Both Tom and I are going to have our eyes tested at 11 o’clock. I just want to make sure his eyes are all right. And I am pretty sure I need a little stronger glass. They slip fast when they slip. And I have so much to do with my eyes this year, I would rather do it in comfort. Tom seems the same kind of depressive as I am. This morning he was feeling particularly low. Also, he blames himself too much—too much. I wonder whether this is a family trait or whether he has learned it the hard way. Difficult to tell about such things—I guess I’d better get to my transition.

  April 7 [6], Friday

  Now the week is gone, the first week in April. I’ll hate to see this month go because this is almost my favorite month of the year. I love it as much as I dislike March. This month growth begins to walk over the world. To me the word April has always seemed a beautiful word—a lilting word. May is soft but April still has a little sting, the fresh uncertainty and unpredictability of a very budding girl.

  It is too bad that I write these long letters to you. I might be better employed in just sticking to my book. But I think I have explained my reason for it to you many times in an attempt to understand myself. Actually I do not think I lose much time with these letter pages. I think I would either be staring at a blank page or writing to someone else. I do know that I have always needed some kind of warm-up before going to work. And if I write to someone else I will be bored because I would have to tell things that happened last week or a month ago and I am not interested in those things. On the other hand, in this, there is rarely anything that did not happen mentally or physically within 24 hours. And in such things I still have an interest. So you see, I will continue with the letters. See how far I have got from the opening line—the week is gone. Can I be becoming one of those wandering bores? Perhaps so but the fact that it was so would not change it.

  Let’s see—I had Tom with me for two days. Had his eyes tested and they are all right except that he is wall-eyed and should make a strain to tighten the muscle of his eye, which wanders when he gets tired. I took him to school this morning and left him. I love him very dearly I guess because of his faults which are my faults. I know where his pains and his panics come from. He can be ruined or made strong in this exact little time. And now is the time when I must help him—not by bolstering him up but by forcing here and making him learn to balance there. Now I will try to get him at least one night every week.

  Now comes the week end. You will be over for pages to type this afternoon. And I have no idea how many I have. It will be 62 handwritten, perhaps a hundred and thirty-five or forty typed. Maybe you will have some idea today. It is very hard to know. I have just changed the angle of my desk. All week I have been leaning over too far and my back is tired but such is the beauty of this wonderful drawing board that a change in angle and height completely changes my posture. I am going to do one thing though. I am going to paint it black. There is a glare on this light wood. I have a very soft black paint which should be very good. Anyway I will try it.

  I am dawdling even more today because the window washer is here and there is a really slow man. But my time is up. I hope you have enjoyed Cathy so far. You are going to see more and more of her for a while. There’s so much to write. Christ, this is going to be a long book. Such a long book. I think the window washer is nearly finished in my room so I will go back to my dear Cathy.

  And there, Pat McPhat, is the week’s work done. And I must say I am sorry. This has been a really challenging week and I must say I have enjoyed it. And I have finished just in time because Waverly has just come in with a chattering covey of girls and the house will not be very quiet anymore. I don’t know how much I have done this week but I think it is a little over the quota I am trying to hold to. But I don’t know. It is 14 pages for this week anyway. And it is enough. I am a little tired because the work has been really concentrated and packed, but it is always like that. It never changes. So what the hell. I’ll paint my board and get to my bird cage. And I am a little pleased with myself this week because I have kept up my schedule in spite of many many interruptions. I’m glad about that.

  I’ll be seeing you soon.

  April 8 [7], Saturday

  You may as well declare page 6322 a bust and forget it. I have managed to get it so dirty that I do not want to write on it. I really don’t know how I got all the smudges on this poor paper —have been working in the garden, then paint
ing and I guess this got in the way. No work today. I didn’t intend to work anyway and this just confirms it. Yesterday was a good day. But it was a kind of a period. I could wish to get back to Adam and to take Cathy to him but this has to go its own way and take its own time. I can’t seem to speed it. Sometimes I try to forget part but it goes in anyway whether I want it to or not. For instance—if I could in any way eliminate the next two scenes I would and gladly. But I think they have to be there. 23 What they do is to build both Cathy’s potential and to show that there is a point of weakness in her. It wouldn’t be like other people’s weakness but it will prove that everything does not go her way. Her effect on Edwards isn’t abnormal I think. I have just invented a paperweight for an inclined desk that will drive you mad, it is so simple. You won’t believe it when you see it. It is the kind of invention which for some reason makes people angry. I don’t know why, but you know there are such things. I just showed it to Elaine and it made her mad so I guess it would get you too. I’ll show it to you next Friday.

  Now I am going to try to invent a hothouse. And suddenly I have an idea. This idea is for heating it. I wonder whether I could do that. How far would I have to tunnel for instance? It is certainly worth a try. Also I must find out about the oil heaters and electric heaters. Also must look for some glass. Secondhand glass. Elaine has just demanded a basket for incoming and outgoing mail. And I would be a silly thing if I could not make one. I guess I’ll try. Once I had all such things but they go away somehow.

  Monday, April 9

  Another week, Pat, and I guess you will be glad. I get my new glasses this afternoon. And maybe that will be better, I will use them only on this floor and put the others on the other floors —one on third and one in kitchen, each on a hanger. Then no more running about. That will be good if I can remember. So many little things. I like the new black top to my desk. Makes it seem very nice indeed. And this week a change of posture which always makes a big difference. I must wash clothes this morning too. I take a certain satisfaction in washing my own T shirts, shorts and socks. Elaine would do it for me but I want to. My mother always taught me and apparently successfully that this was a part of privacy like washing your own teeth. Isn’t it strange which things stick and which do not? You can’t ever tell.

  Now begins this other week of work and it is going to be a large one for me. You are always complaining about these pencil pages rubbing or running. I guess I’ll have to spray them for you so you won’t worry so much about them. I never saw anyone so miserish of copy as you are. Today I am going halfheartedly to boost my output—not violently but some. I feel I have slipped. Of course on a Monday I always feel that. But I’ll see if I can’t get in a few extra cracks this week.

  You know how you have a feeling about a day? I feel that this is going to be an active one. I don’t know why. The feeling is just there. Phones and things like that. No telling about such things and they don’t often work out. Certainly they are not based on anything at all except that perhaps I want to be interrupted. It is amazing how much work rhythm you can lose by being off even for two days. I would like to work straight through to preserve the rhythm but I know that I would get too tired. I am well rested today but have lost my discipline. Don’t know how one goes about preserving both freshness and discipline. Do you?

  Had a good time at the South Pacific party Saturday night. At least five hundred people there. But in spite of the good time, a little sadness too because very deep in me I can never be a part of such things and I guess I have always wanted to. But something cuts me off always. I guess I am nearly at the age to be resigned about not being the things I guess as a child I wanted to be. The whole pattern Saturday night was oddly foreign to me. Maybe I too am a monster. I remember this sorrow at not being a part of things from very early in my childhood. Maybe from my very first birthday party.

  And now my daily dawdling has reached its normal conclusion. And we go back to Cathy. I hope to get her to the point of meeting Adam either today or tomorrow. I have taken perhaps too long with her but I intend to take as much time as I need with everyone and everything. This is one book in which I intend to indulge every instinct I have. And believe me I shall. No reason why I should not. I do get a panic every once in a while about being interrupted. I feel that I will not be permitted to finish this book. But I must and will finish it. I have to. The Salinas papers have started to arrive. And they give me a sense of closeness with the region. And with that I guess it is time for me to go to work.

  Now you see, Pat, what can happen to a man, to any man. And I hope you will take this as a lesson and a warning.

  Now there, Pat, is a picture of pure violence. There is no way to avoid this. It was plotted from the first. And now we have come to the place where Adam meets his future wife. And it may be that this week I will get them ready for California. I may if I work hard even get them to the Salinas Valley, and I’ll bet you will like that. You must be pretty tired of this long chapter. But I don’t see how it could be otherwise than it was. I did three pages today. Maybe I will do the same tomorrow. I’ll just have to see. That’s all I can do. And so I leave this all for today.

  April 10, Tuesday

  Patrushka, if you only knew how bad we were last night you would be sad for us. You can’t imagine such badness. We sat up all night long talking and drinking, just the two of us. It was five when we got to sleep. And of course I got up at 7:30. I feel fine but I could have done with a little more sleep. I have now made a new writing board to hold these pages. It is large and pretty. You would like it. I made it and painted it yesterday. Sometimes I think you will never understand me. My inventions you take lightly. My dream paperweight for an inclined desk you would laugh at. Well laugh, but we shall see who laughs last. When my paperweight covers the world. Then we shall see.

  I am beginning to spray these pages with clear plastic. You have complained that they smudge. Well, they will never do it again—never. You can’t even erase them when I get through. Try it and see from this page on.

  Last night I read a few of the last pages to Elaine. She has not heard any for a long time. I told her that hereafter I would read to her on Thursday so she can keep up.

  What shall I say now. A new day’s work is starting and a new direction. It should be a chapter but I don’t want a chapter. So it will be one of the large breaks.24 Now I have finished with Catherine alone. Today she comes in contact with Adam and his brother. And their reaction to her is going to be a development of themselves. It is a day of dialogue, mostly dialogue. So far there has not been much except in bursts. And I had better get to it soon. I went for my glasses and they were not ready yesterday. I will have to go again today. Seems a shame. Well anyway I have an early start today in case anything should happen to interrupt me.

  I must call Gwyn about the boys today. Must do that. Simply must. I have an idea besides.

  Got three dozen new pencils yesterday. I go through pencils fast and I love long ones—keep them very sharp and that is hard to do. Well, Pat, it is time for me to go to work. We shall see whether I can make these men begin to take shape. This is a hell of a story.

  April 10, Tuesday, continued

  Well I didn’t get Cathy in because I wanted to paint the two men in their own words and also to give a kind of a look at their lives and the way people lived and talked then and the greyness of their lives. I had to do that because it has a definite bearing on what is going to happen. Such things have to be prepared for.

  I hope you didn’t feel that I was short this morning on the phone, about the criticism. Right now when I am only thinking ahead, it will do me no good. So write it all down and we’ll go into it when the book is finished. As you remember I am pretty good about criticism. I want to warn you of only one thing. This is a different kind of a book and you must be sure that you do not dislike it for its difference. Also be very careful that you are sure that the thing you intend is not a carefully planted matter. I think that you must save any
large criticism until the book is done or else you may find yourself trapped in this technique. You said this morning you had to sell x thousands of copies. I am sure, after all of our years together, you will not ask me to make one single change for the sake of sales except in terms of clarity. I am not writing for money any more now than I ever did. If money comes that is fine, but [if] I knew right now that this book would not sell a thousand copies, I would still write it. I want you to remember that, Pat. I have not changed in that respect even a little bit. Now my day’s work is done and I am going to fix a chair and plant a plant. And good luck to all of us. And tomorrow Adam will find his future wife.