This is my three hundred and sixty-fifth notebook entry of the year. I thought this would be the last one for the year, but I failed to take into account that 1996 is a leap year. So it goes. Samuel Butler said "God was satisfied with his own work, and that is fatal." I'm pleased with this project, but far from fatally satisfied. Not only am I afraid of resting on my laurels (if I had any), but I'm also careful to avoid the trap of equating my worth as a human and artist with the quantity and quality of my recent output.
Although I'm generally happy with this notebook, I'm aware that it has two fundamental problems. First, it was intended to serve as a basis for "serious" work. I could elaborate on quite a few of the ideas I've come up with, but haven't had the time to do much more than keep up with the daily notebook entries.
And then there's the problem of quantity. This notebook isn't really three hundred and sixty-five separate pieces, it's one work comprised of three hundred and sixty-five parts. Over forty thousand words with no plot is too much for almost anyone to read, even me. (That explains all the typographical errors I've no doubt missed.)
I need to do something different in 1997, and I'm sure I'll come up with an idea. I'm not worried; after all, I have the rest of the year to think about it.
