Working Days

by John Steinbeck

  (Finished).

  Entry #86

  Oct[ober] 5 [1938]—11:30 [Wednesday]

  142-143

  Late start today. I slept until 9:30. I don’t know why. Defeated dreams too. I don’t know why those either. But I feel fine this morning and the dreams have no effect. I don’t care about the lateness of the start. I have plenty of time, plenty. And I’ve lost the rush feeling. Yesterday to the ranch—they have framed in the house and sheathed it. I always hate to come down again. It is so fine up there. Well before too long we’ll be there, I guess. Yes. We’ll be there. And in time this book will be done. All in good time. I’ll get it done. Just trust in that. Pare has not made any demands on me. No one has. The demands of people to use my name. Things like that are different. They can’t be helped. It is particularly fine today because the noise next door has stopped at least for the moment. No cement mixer, or pounding on pipe or things like that. Almost too good to be true. It would be funny if the absence of noise made it hard. It won’t. It is delicious this silence. Absolutely delicious. And my story is coming better. I see it better. See it better. Ma’s crossing with the clerk [Ed.—in the Hooper Ranch Company Store], and then Tom’s going out—meeting Casy—trying to move the men in the camp. Arrest and beating. Return in secret. Move. Cotton—flood. And the end—Tom comes back. Stolen things. Must go. Be Around. Birth. And the rising waters. And the starving man. And the end. What more? And now to it.

  Entry #87

  Oct[ober] 6 [1938]—10:30 [Thursday]

  144-145

  Early start this morning. Can’t ever tell. Worked long and slowly yesterday. Don’t know whether it was good, but it was a satisfactory way to work and I wish it would be that way every day. I’ve lost this rushed feeling finally and can get back to the easy method of day by day—which is as it should be. Got the iron gate [Ed.—in exchange] for an autograph. That is a bargain. Today I shall work slowly and try to get that good feeling again. It must be. Just a little bit every day. A little bit every day. And then it will be through. And the story is coming to me fast now. And it will be fast from now on. Movement fast but the detail slow as always. I seem to be delaying pretty badly today. Half an hour gone already and I don’t care because the little details are coming, are getting clearer all the time. So the more I wait, the more of this book will get written. How about the jail. Today, the preacher and Tom and the raid on the tent and the killing of the preacher [Ed.—Chapter 26]. Tom’s escape. Kills. Goes back to the camp to hide. Tom—half bitterness, half humane. Escapes in the night. Hunted, hunted. Over the last pages Tom hangs like a spirit around the camp. And in the water brings stolen food. Must get to work now. The thing speeds up.

  Entry #88

  Oct[ober] 7 [1938]—11:00 [Friday]

  146-147

  Friday again and a short week. Has gone quickly. I think the work has been pretty good but I can’t tell. I’ve a funny feeling about it. And a change is coming over me—a goatish sexuality. The summer has been just the opposite—very low. Now it is rising rapidly. Maybe the weather, I don’t know. Maybe the burden of the work getting near an end has something to do with it. No mail of importance this morning. Not even requests for things. Today is quiet. I should be able to get my work done fairly easily. Furnace men coming this afternoon. I hope they come early. There is one fly in this room and I can’t find him. I hope next week the work comes as well as this week. I think it will. And 10,000 [Ed.—words] next week instead of 8,000. Got the fly. He is the last. Now—no hurry today. Plenty of time. Yesterday, I finished early and wasted a great deal of time. Today I can’t do that. Take all the time on the manuscript I want. It is Friday and I can finish gradually for the week. This leisurelyness must go on although the tempo gets faster the details must be as slow. Today the hiding of Tom and the scene with his mother [Ed.—the end of Chapter 26]. The cut in wages. Tom has to go. Getting together. The drop to starvation level of the wages. The trapped quality. Must get it in—Difficulty of getting clean. No soap. No money to buy soap. Then peaches. The rush of workers and the fight for the peaches. Fight to get them. Must get this all in. There’s so damned much in this book already. I must keep it coming. Furnace men came. Means we can get in to San Jose today. Must get to work.

  Entry #89

  Oct[ober] 10 [1938]—11:00—Monday

  148-149

  Very quiet week end for a change. Mary and Bill* Saturday night and to dinner. Had fun and a good bottle of wine. Home after going up to the ranch in the moonlight. The roof is on the new house. Begins to look like a house. And another agent from Hollywood wanting to buy The Red Pony. Carol took it and shot it. I don’t want that stuff. Nice day today and I’m in no hurry. I can take all the time I want. And that’s a good way to work. Carol is going up to the ranch. And this week I want a full week’s work. No short week this time or I won’t even finish on the first of November as I’d planned. I’ll do it. I’ll get the book done if I just set one day’s work in front of the last day’s work. That’s the way it comes out. And that’s the only way it does. Writing is a little bit bigger today. It usually is at the beginning of a week. Well the time has come. Must get to it. 150 pages tomorrow.

  Finished 3:30.

  Entry #90

  Oct[ober] 11 [1938]—10:30 [Tuesday]

  150-151

  I’m a little early today. A brilliant day, with an autumn snap to it. Good day for work. And the work is ready to do. Carol is going to S.F. tomorrow. I want to get down and see about the motor today. Try it on a refrigerator and see if it will start it. Time has come to get it up there. Well the work is moving along. And I don’t resent it. All the growth of the fascist tendency is heart breaking. Nothing seems to work against its stupidity and one gets very tired. I think I wish I wouldn’t have to think. Wish I could just let things go past but that time is gone. No one can escape it. Me least of all. I’ll probably be framed before very long. As usual I’m messing around a lot before going to work so that it is now darned near eleven o’clock and me not actually at work yet. There is the problem of the flood and whether I’ll include it. I think so. I think I will and I think I’ll include the box car camp and the digging all night and the break through. It is really time to go to work. But today is Tuesday and I might as well fill out.* Letter from my cousin Grace—first in 22 years. Wonder what she is like. I bet I know. The Y.W. must have left its mark. And the interest is solely because of the publicity. Seems to affect every one. She’ll be denying the relationship before long now. Every one will. To work.

  Funny Hopper came by yesterday.

  Entry #91

  Oct[ober] 12 [1938]—10:45 [Wednesday]

  152

  I got a fairly early start today and then George Mors came and talked a while so I am a little late. I may do only half today because then I’ll finish just this section this week. And it will even up the numbers. The end is peering in on me now. I can feel it. It’s coming closer. But a lot of things have to happen. Also I am pretty excited now about my story. Al is going to get married and go away. Al is tough. Tom is going to go. Hint of small pox, measles. Measles for R. of S. [Ed.—Rose of Sharon], weakening. Cause miscarriage or rather birth of dead baby. Breast pump. Then the rain. Tom comes back. And he goes again. Letter from Sis. * La Follette people* are here. That may raise hell. I think the time has come and with one page. One end of a box car [Ed.—Chapter 28]

  Entry #92

  Oct[ober] 13 [1938]—10:45 [Thursday]

  153-154

  Yesterday only half a day’s work, but with good reason. This blind weariness had me. I can’t tell anyone about it but I am almost sick to my stomach with tiredness. The air is very heavy today. Must be going to rain. It is stifling. But it is quiet. No pounding or anything like that any more. The mail this morning—just a mass of requests. Driving me crazy. Terribly nervous today. As Carl* used to say—I’m nervous as a cat. Cats always seemed to me to be fairly placid animals. It becomes increasingly apparent that I must make a sta
nd against joining things as I have against speaking. The mail is full of requests to use my name. Another request to be a clay pigeon. I won’t do any of these public things. Can’t. It isn’t my nature and I won’t be stampeded. And so the stand must be made and I must keep out of politics. Now these two things are constantly working at me. Criticism of me is very strong and will grow bitter but I must remember the one and the ninety-nine [Ed.—Luke 15:3-7]. And I must not stampede. I want to see.

  Entry #93

  Oct[ober] 14 [1938]—10:45 [Friday]

  155-156 Section

  Comes Friday and this time Friday and a section come at the same time. Again no mail but requests. Pat will be in S.F. early next week. If tomorrow should be a rainy day, I think I will do a page to catch up in case I lose a day next week, which I probably will. I think probably one more section or two weeks will get this done. Had I worked every day I should be done now. Yesterday was a good scene. Must repair one part of it. I’m getting excited now that the end is coming up. Rather work than not. I’ll be sad when this is done. But I am glad to finish. Only two more weeks or maybe less. Depends. The last general must be a summing of the whole thing. Group survival. Yes, I am excited. Almost prayerful that this book is some good. Maybe it is and maybe not. Now let’s see what we have. The marriage of Al—the birth of the baby—the general on rain and survival—the trenching and then the flight to the high land—the finding of the barn. Attempt to sell the car, it is flooded and lost. Not so much, you see, and concentrated tempo. And ending where I thought. Well—there is no reason not to go back to it now. I hope my hand doesn’t shake too much any more. I guess I might as well get to it. After today an outside of 20 pages. Probably less.

  Entry #94

  Oct[ober] 17 [1938]—11:00 [Monday]

  157-158

  Monday again but because of the nearness of the ending of this book a day of excitement and the reserve was taken up also. Interesting to see if it really is a second wind. I think so. Need the energy now because there has been a great drain of energy and emotion into this book. Pat due in S.F. some time this week. Letter from Pare talking about the picture [Ed.—In Dubious Battle]. I really think we’ll work on it when I get through. Letter from Louis. * He likes part of the manuscript. And doesn’t like part. Must judge his criticism coldly as valid, but only as one man’s criticism. It is very valuable. I’ve been so tied up that I

  don’t know. And I don’t want to know until I am finished. That is going to be difficult to get it in second draft. And I think I shall have to do another draft without fail—not Carol though. She will have done enough. I’ll get a regular stenographer to do it. Probably can get one with ease. But I am sure it must be done. I think I will have to make many changes if only just of tone and word. Sorry, but I could hardly be expected to whip out finished copy. It’ll work out some way. Kind of dull feeling up around the eyes. Clinical I guess. I’ve had a fine rest this week end. And am all ready to go, and there is no time like right now [Ed.—final section of Chapter 28].

  Entry #95

  Oct[ober] 18 [1938]—11:15 [Tuesday]

  159

  Today a single page—the general of the rain, and the last general [Ed.—Chapter 29]. And then one more very long chapter to finish. I expect Pat to call today but he hasn’t so far. The month is flying away. Never saw time go so quickly as this spring and summer and yet the daily time has not been so quick. Not quick at all. I’ll be glad to see Pat. I only hope he is not embarrassed or anything. I should be hurrying to work in case he calls. But I don’t want to hurry this. My nerves are very shaky. Little sleep these nights. But I’m going to finish, by God. I’m sure going to finish and whether it is any good or not it will be done. I wonder how I’ll feel then? Good I hope. And then the whole weight of every one who wants me to do things will fall on me. Well—that’s what I must watch out for. I have the energy to work but I’m not going to be rushed.

  Entry #96

  Oct[ober] 19 [1938]—10:45 [Wednesday]

  160-161

  Wednesday today and I am a little early in starting. Play opened last Thursday in Pittsburgh. Haven’t heard how well. May hear later. Wally and Brod are not in it. Then—Pat is in S.F., but very busy. We’ll go up Friday to get him. Another note from Rodman. Still wanting material. I think I’ll tell Pat to let him look over the manuscript and maybe take a general chapter.* I don’t know. McWilliams* wires me to come to meeting in L.A. Request to serve on the board of Dramatists’ Guild. Here are [indecipherable] just for the [indecipherable]. I’m not too hot for work today. Strong reluctance to finish I think. Can’t give myself the allowance of laziness just now. When it is done I can—but not until then. My mind doesn’t want to work—hates to work in fact, but I’ll make it. I’m on my very last chapter now. The very last. It may be fifteen pages long but I can’t help that. It may be twenty. The rain—the birth—the nood—and the barn. The starving man and the last scene that has been ready so long. I don’t know. I only hope it is some good. I have very grave doubts sometimes. I don’t want this to seem hurried. It must be just as slow and measured as the rest but I am sure of one thing—it isn’t the great book I had hoped it would be. It’s just a run-of-the-mill book. And the awful thing is that it is absolutely the best I can do. Now to work on it.

  Entry #97

  Oct[ober] 20 [1938]—12:00 [Thursday]

  162

  A late start. After last night it is no wonder. My nerves blew out like a fuse and today I feel weak and powerless. I wish it hadn’t happened until I was through. Guess I better not press my luck. Just write today until I am tired and not force it. Got to if I don’t want to collapse. About three or four more days and it will be done. Funny to think in such terms. Seems impossible that it should be so near. Maybe it shouldn’t be. I hope the close isn’t controlled by my weariness. I wouldn’t like that. But I think this is really a good tiredness. “Tom! Tom! Tom!” I know. It wasn’t him. Yes, I think I can go on now. In fact, I feel stronger. Much stronger. Funny where the energy comes from. Now to work only now it isn’t work any more.

  Entry #98

  Oct[ober] 24 [1938]—10:00 [Monday]

  Monday again and I think it is my last week. I’m almost dead from lack of sleep. Can’t go to sleep. I don’t know why. Just plan for the ending. Pat was here for the week end. He read the first part—400 pages. He is very volatile. Likes it very much, he said. I hope he doesn’t over sell* it. Too many superlatives can spoil its chances. I hope he lays low and lets people find out about it if they will. Well any way, that’s the story. Saturday and Sunday went out to the ranch. Set a lot of gopher traps. Caught four and have ten traps out now. Can gradually work them out if I keep after them. Word from Pittsburgh that M & M is playing to crowded houses. Hope it gets a little run. It could pay for the whole damned ranch if it wanted to. And also it could pay Viking out on the contract. Well enough of that. My stomach is shot to pieces with tiredness. If I could only get some sleep I’d be all right. Twelve hours I’d like. Carol is back at typing. Poor kid, but there is to be no final draft, thank goodness. Well, I might as well get to the work. No one is going to do it for me.

  Entry #99

  Oct[ober] 25 [1938]—11:00 [Tuesday]

  163-164

  I don’t know whether it was just plain terror of the ending or not. My stomach went to pieces yesterday. May have been nerves. I lay down and slept all afternoon. Went to bed at 10:30 and slept all night. May be some kind of release. At any rate, I feel rested today and that is something. Don’t know how many pages or days to finish. Probably three days. Must get into it today. Beautiful weather. Carol ruined her hand typing yesterday. Can’t work today. I must get through so I can take all the house work. Nice weather for the finish, but I almost wish it would rain. No letters this morning. I have nothing to bother me so there is no reason at all for not continuing. And I think I have every single move mapped out for the ending. I only hope it is good. It simply has to be. Well, there it is, all of it
in my mind. And I hesitate to get to it. Maybe I’m afraid I can’t do it. But then I was afraid I couldn’t do any of it. And just day by day I did it. So that is the way to finish it. Forget that it is the finish and just set down the day by day work. And now finally I must get to it.

  Entry #100

  Oct[ober] 26 [1938]—10:30 [Wednesday]

  [165]

  Today should be a day of joy because I could finish today—just the walk to the barn, the new people and the ending and that’s all. But I seem to have contracted an influenza of the stomach or something. Anyway I am so dizzy I can hardly see the page. This makes it difficult to work. On the other hand, it might get worse. I might be in for a siege. Can’t afford to take that chance. I must go on. If I can finish today I don’t much care what happens afterwards. Wish—if it was inevitable, that it could have held off one more day. My fault really for having muffed on Monday oddly enough. I feel better—sitting here. I wish I were done. Best way is just to get down to the lines. I wonder if this flu could be simple and complete exhaustion. I don’t know. But I do know that I’ll have to start at it now and, of course, anything I do will be that much nearer the end.