Working Days

by John Steinbeck

  Entry #31

  July 7 [1938]—11:00 [Thursday]

  Now it’s Thursday. Strange how I’m fighting this book now. I think it is about to change now though because I am feeling more and more like work. The despair came on me for a while but although still nervous from it I think I am recovering. Today will be a kind of test case I guess. As Carol says, stay with the detail. Let the damn book go three hundred thousand words if it wants to. This is my life. Why should I want to finish my own life? The confidence is on me again. I can feel it. It’s stopping work that does the damage. Today I finish another section of this big book, a page section that is. I wish this [Ed.—ledger] book were all full. This daily work diary is really working this time and it is a good thing. Today word from Barry,* who wants to print my statement. Also from teacher’s association asking for a speech, and Who’s Who* for correction of proof. That’s all the mail. Swedish translation* of T.F. arrived today, and the Norwegian is on the way. Getting quite a collection of translations. It will be a nice thing to have. Today I feel finally relaxed after the Fourth of July holiday. That seemed to wear me down rather than rest me. The work itself has rested me. Now the time is here to go to work. And I must go to work. And I’m anxious today. Report later. Finished and I have a good feeling about today’s work. I think it is better. More easy and moving.

  Entry #32

  July 8 [1938]—10:30 [Friday]

  Fairly early start today. And a beautiful day. Carol goes to look at real estate today. Wilkus came out with a word about a ranch in the mountains—360 acres for $12,000. Could sell off what we didn’t want. We’ll look at it anyway. It might be fine. No mail of any consequence today. French translation of M & M and IN. D. B. are in progress. * They get about. I wonder how this book will be. I wonder. Yesterday it seemed to me that the people were coming to life. I hope so. These people must be intensely alive the whole time. I was worried about Rose of Sharon. She has to emerge if only as a silly pregnant girl now. She has to be a person. Noah I think I’ll lose for the time being and Uncle John and maybe for a while Casy. But I want to keep Tom and Ma together. Lots of people walking along the roads in this season. I can hear their voices. Louis has finished his book, first draft. * He must be glad, I guess. Well, it’s time for me to go to work. Time to go and today I must get them camped. And the tent effect built. And the new people. And maybe a part of the history of this new couple [Ed.—the Wilsons]. Well, that’s done. The death of Grampa [Ed.—Chapter 13].

  Entry #33

  July 11 [1938]—10:30 [Monday]

  Monday again. The weeks swing by but they don’t seem to get me much nearer to completion. They do, of course, only they don’t seem to. Sunday Julia B [Ed.—Breinig, from Monterey] and two others. Today after four Bill Richardson. I don’t know what he wants. Louis will be down though. Nothing much else to report. We made plans to go to the Rodeo* next Saturday and night and then back to Santa Cruz. Ought to be fun. I just hope I don’t get into any trouble—I mean with publicity. Salinas would exploit anything—anything, even me, whom it hates. Well, there it is—the daily life. Now back to work. Always on week ends I have the feeling of wasted time. And I am terrified that through illness or something the work may stop. Once the first draft is done, it will be all right because someone could read it even if I passed out of the picture. But I simply must get the draft done. Must avoid every side influence. Must get to be tough about so many things now. Once it is finished of course—then I’ll take time off I hope. But I haven’t really done much work the last two years—for me, I mean. In wordage, more than most, but not for me. But once this book is done I won’t care how soon I die, because my major work will be over. Today comes the funeral in the night of Grampa. That will be the whole day’s work. And it closes one whole part of the book. It must be good and full of fullness and completions. And that feeling must go into it. Must. I seem to use the word must more than any other. It’s a good word though; I’ve nothing against it. The force of folk ceremonial. Well there she is and Grampa is only half-buried. Tomorrow is

  Entry #34

  July 12 [1938]—10:30 [Tuesday]

  This is a beautiful day, hot and clean. Last night Richardson of the Chronicle down. Spoke about a new literature section. I have nothing for it and the price is too low for Louis. Well, there you have it. This morning a request from CIO* to head a committee for organization of farm workers. Can’t do it until this book is done. Mail was sparse today. This is a hell of a time to be writing a book. Everything in the world is happening and I must sit here and write. Well if I ever finish, it will be some kind of triumph. This good pen holds up beautifully. I guess it will last out the entire book. The more I think of it, the better I like this work diary idea. Always I’ve set things down to loosen up a creaking mind but never have I done so consecutively. This sort of keeps it all corralled in one place. Soule phoned* that he wanted me to talk to the President, but I don’t know what about or why. I’ll do it if I can do any good but I’ll be damned if I’ll be another shirt front in a curious mob. I can’t go on this way forever. My hand today will steady down I think because I am calm. And it is time now.

  Chapter end. It was Book Two, chapter two [Ed.—Chapter 13]. General tomorrow. I don’t know which one.

  Entry #35

  July 13 [1938]—11:00 [Wednesday]

  I don’t know why, but everything seems to be happening now. We are looking at ranches today, too. And yesterday we saw the most beautiful I have ever seen. I want that ranch.* We’ll try to get it. Carol wants it too. And it is reported that [Ed.—Wally] Ford is coming and all the time I go on working but I wonder whether my work isn’t getting a shot-full-of-holes feeling. No word from Soule so I guess I won’t have to meet the President. I would have but I didn’t like it. Most brilliant weather now. Lovely. And time slips through my fingers. But so far the work has slipped through too so that in fifteen days I shall be half through this book. Probably the first of August no less. I don’t know whether I can do the whole thing in one jump without a rest. We will see. May take a few days off when Book Two is done. Took four days when Book One was done. Tried to get some music but couldn’t. Routine of the house more important. Will have to get on without it. Having to work through and around a thousand things anyway. Wish I could run away from everything to do my book. God, how I wish I could! It will be full of jitter at this rate. No other way, I guess. Well, to work—or to try.

  I did it but it may not be good. I don’t know. But it is in, the I to We [Ed.—Chapter 14].

  Entry #36

  July 14 [1938]—12:15 [Thursday]

  Book II Chap. 4

  Today much to my disgust the time has slipped away and it is the latest since I started this book. Not that it matters a great deal. Just work later. I’ll get it done but it scares me to be late. We’re hipped on this ranch. Can think of little else. But I must. Carol is mad over the place and so am I. Well I don’t have to meet the President for which I am thankful. My lazy tendency is setting in now and I’ll have to combat it. This book must be ready by the first of the year. Simply must. And that means solid work, completely solid. So this tendency must be put out of the way. Little mail this morning for which I’m glad. Rusty sent sixty bottles of the fine red wine. Nice people. Too many things are happening. No word from the east [Ed.—from Pat Covici, or from McIntosh and Otis]. News printed my letters* and I imagine the reaction will be immediate. Now to work god damn it and different work. Must get to it.

  Finished it [Ed.—beginning of Chapter 15]. By God and for a while I didn’t think I was going to. But I got the full day’s work done.

  Entry #37

  July 15 [1938]—11:15 [Friday]

  Today I have a leisurely feeling getting into the work whereas yesterday it was one of frantic rush. Today it will be 68 pages [Ed.—of handwritten manuscript]. According to the thousand words to the page gauge, that would be about 70,000 words, but it is more I think. And it is the 35th day. In other words, in 16 more
days I’ll be half through. And I must get my people to California before then. By the first of August they should be there, come what may. I think all of today will be in the hamburger stand [Ed.—Chapter 15]. That is an important place. Carol going to San Jose today. That ranch sinks back now. Won’t have to think of it for awhile. It would be fine to finish the book before thinking of it. Then I could think of it all I want. But today I can take my time and what difference if I don’t finish until late? I don’t care. Must be sure not to drink too much and little but beer or short ones in Salinas. Poison on town. I’m going there in the same way that some people go to a slaughter house or a morgue. Anyway, I’m going. This day is good. Letter from Ed and all his teeth are out now. And now to work. On with the hamburger stand. Carol just left with Elsie [Ed.—Ray] and my time has come. No more nonsense. Well, I got her and the eating joint is through and I think pretty well. Now a week end.

  Entry #38

  July 18 [1938]—11:15 [Monday]

  Book II Chap. 4

  Only a quarter page. Rodeo blues and weakness.

  Now another week begins. Went to Salinas for the rodeo. Drank lots of whiskey and had a fair time. Empty feeling, empty show. Same enthusiasm circus had whips up. Taken to task by Arline. Sorry. That was the only example of their hatred. I make enemies and friends. And now home with a little stomach ache that doesn’t come from the stomach. Terrible feeling of lostness and loneliness. I don’t know. No word about the ranch. Nice letter from Pat. How nice he is. Trying to reassure me. I don’t need it. Now to the work. The families move on today. I’m in no hurry, so let them move slowly. Got this god damned nasty rodeo to get out of my system. Problems pile up so that this book moves like a Tide Pool snail with a shell and barnacles on its back. Well, I’ve got to get to it. The Joads and Wilsons move on [Ed.—beginning of Chapter 16]. Think I’ll take them quite a way this time before I stop them. Get my map* going.

  Entry #39

  July 19 [1938]—11:05 [Tuesday]

  Yesterday was a bust and I’m sorry but I think today will be all right. I just can’t go on these week ends. Confusion lasts too long. Got to stay home and keep my nose down low to my story. Agreed to head a committee to gather funds for field workers’ organization. If it takes time or effort away from this work, I’ll resign. Warned them of that. I’ll have to turn back pages pretty soon to a new set for this diary. I’ll finish another section this week and that will be good. Cut it out and start a new one. That will be very good. I feel the book again today and I think it will go on now.

  Done at last and it was a chore for some reason. Be glad to get them there.

  Entry #40

  July 20 [1938]—11:15 [Wednesday]

  Well last night a wire that Pat is in trouble. I’ve been expecting it. I’m so sorry for him. Our two thousand dollars, our year’s royalties, are pretty important to us but we’re eating and working and that’s more than we have any right to expect. Being broke won’t kill us but it will wipe Pat out. And he is such a nice fellow. The irritations are increasing. I wonder whether I will ever finish this book. And of course I’ll finish it. Just work a certain length of time and it will get done poco a poco. Just do the day’s work. Some days I think I am getting sour but I don’t know. Then comes a good day and I am lifted up again. And I can’t tell from the opening. Often in writing these beginning lines I think it is going to be all right and then it isn’t. Just have to see. I hope it is all right today. It is hot today, but by powdering my arm and hand it seems to be all right. I hope the whole rest of the summer isn’t boiling, but if it is, it is, and that’s all there is to it. The work must go on day after day until one day it will be finished. In ten days I will be half done. 50 days of work. I hope we get to California by then because I would like half the time out here. That is the important part—out here. Today I must get the family split—perhaps Tom and Casy to Santa Rosa, or Tom at least for the part [Ed.—Chapter 16]. I think it may be all right. I hope so and I am going to sign this off now and try at it.

  Finished, but at 7 PM.

  Entry #41

  July 21 [1938]—10:15 [Thursday]

  Yesterday was a terrible day. Telegrams and phones and auspices. Pat is really in trouble. Today his creditors meet and if they force him into bankruptcy our whole year’s royalties go up the flue. I wish it worried me more but it doesn’t. Morrow [Ed.—William Morrow Publishing Company] wired and phoned. By three o’clock we should know how the meeting of the creditors comes out. That is one of the reasons for going to work a little earlier. Gets me done before hell breaks out. I don’t want to work until 7 tonight. Director of L.A. Federal Theatre came over last night. Nice fellow. I liked him. When I am through I must do some work for the theatre if I have it in me. I don’t know. I think, now that I’m tied down, that I will do lots of things, but I wonder if I will. We’ll see anyway. Now to the work. Note to be added concerning Pat when word comes through, if it does. Finished early and I’m glad.

  Entry #42

  July 22 [1938]—10:20 [Friday]

  This is Friday and the last day of a short week. I am ashamed of the short week but it must be put down to accident. Actually I am just about up to schedule on wordage. And I have to take a small loss. So far it is very small. Pat did not have the creditors’ meeting yesterday. I have a feeling he will pull out of this. He has an advance sale list of 8000 on the short stories a month before publication, which is phenomenal. I hope to goodness he can pull out. He is a plugger though. Letter from Burns Mantle for a reprint of M & M. * I hope everything will blow over and let me go on with this work. Only 8 days to finish half. And today I cut out another section. Record from Ford today. Jokes and very good. Startling effect hearing yourself addressed from the phonograph. No word from Pare. Have been expecting him. I won’t mind a rest after today. I’m taking my time now but the wordage continues. That’s the way it should be, too. Now I should be getting back to work. To the Rays’ tonight for dinner and I suppose I’ll get tight and I don’t much care. In a way it is good and in a way bad. But if I am to drink anything Friday night is the best night for it. I’m a bit addled but I can do it all right. If my self discipline will let me go on working while hell pops around my ears, I’ll be all right. I’ll know I am all right. I just hope the work isn’t suffering. And now to it. Must build some on this one-eyed man [Ed.—the junkyard scene in Chapter 16].

  And now that’s done and I can rest and the Dodge is fixed and Monday the scene shifts to the first migrant camp [Ed.—final section of Chapter 16].

  Entry #43

  July 25 [1938]—10:20 [Monday]

  Lots of excitement. Carol went with Nellie [Ed.—her mother, who was vacationing in Santa Cruz] last night. Good for her, the change. Restless night for me on account of eating melon and strange and scary to be alone. Must write about this some time. It is a curious thing. Wind blew terribly. This morning lots of mail. Elizabeth writes everything that has been happening. I think Pat will get clear some way—letters from John [Ed.—Barry], from Henning,* and from the O’Brien guy.* Pleasant weekend but a little exhausting. Cerf* wired some plan whereby he carries Pat. I don’t know. Wired Elizabeth. Mustn’t interfere with her in any way. They’re a fine bunch of people. I like Random House. Of course, I don’t know anything about them financially, but I like the books they print. And I like Cerf. Well, anyway I haven’t lost a minute of work on account of this difficulty. That’s good. That’s the fine discipline. If I can only keep that up this book will be finished in due course. Now I have all day to work and there is no need of hurrying. I can piddle out the two thousand words. Working in the main house because of telephone—so I won’t have to run in, I mean. It is a curious windy day with the weather changing and fallish and leaves falling. Probably be an early and mean winter. It is time for me to get to work. Got to. Even if I have plenty of time. I get assailed with old times. Last night particularly. The flies are in this house on my arms. Here I could have had only half a page of work done [Ed.—st
ill on Chapter 16]. This diary is really valuable to me though. Keeps me from writing letters. And now to work. This pen writes thinner if it is steeper. This has been a good pen to me so far. Never had such a good one. To work now.

  The following three days were lost.* Lost completely. Carol went to the hospital for her tonsils. This morning my neck is stiff.

  Entry #44

  August 1 [1938]—12:00 [Monday]

  Now I didn’t work then or all week. Carol had her tonsils out and has been so sick and miserable that I just can’t concentrate. Weakness maybe but can’t cut her pain out of my mind. Pat’s trouble piddles on and that interferes some. Just have to drop last week. It was out. Brod Crawford* came for the weekend. Nice fellow, but what a time to come. My nerves are very bad, awful in fact. I lust to get back into it. Maybe I was silly to think I could write so long a book without stopping. I can’t. Or rather I couldn’t. I’ll try to go on now. Hope to lose some of the frantic quality in my mind now. It’s just like slipping behind at Stanford. * Panic sets in. Can’t organize. And everybody is taking a crack at me. Want time, want to use me. In aggregate it is terrible. And I don’t know where to run. Ought to go into the wild somewhere but I am needed here. Got to calm down. Simply must. I’m jumpy. And it is hot. Good for fog. Don’t know who will publish my book. Don’t know at all. No reason to let it slide though. Must keep at it. Necessary. Carol says I’m pampering myself. I guess I am. Wish I could control the jumping jitters though. Time to make the break and another try now. Time for it. I made it [Ed.—Chapter 16].