Writers always have reasons.
There’s an inner conversation but it never discloses the entire plot or, as is the case with mine, even a clever ending that you know you’d have no problem building up to. The conversation only reveals the reasons why you can’t, why you shouldn’t, why it doesn’t make any difference…
The best writers are not the ones who can ignore or control the conversation. The best writers may actually be tormented by it. It’s the most prolific writers who get it done, in their voice, without worrying about what people will think.
Almost two decades ago now I created a way to have some different conversations. I created an alter ego called… Walter Wego.
Walter Wego wrote and recorded a handful of songs using an old four track tape recorder, a borrowed bass and a rapper’s drum machine. Although I was shootin’ for Tom Waits the result is decidedly on par with Daniel Johnson.
This journal is a continuation of that indulgence, without the nom de plume.
So here may exist more songs with or without music, fictional starts and stops and observational essays on our times. I’ll catalog things I have written, speeches I have given, eulogies, correspondences (treasures like a missive I once penned to the Atomic Fire Ball Company), any content that may have been moderately creative or mildly interesting.
This is a depository for the flow of ideas that bombard my brain daily, at least the ones that can be put into words.
Enough! I know you’re really just here to experience Walter Wego!