MONDAY NOVEMBER 9th, NEWPORT

"6 AM on the 9th day..."

I arrived at the house at the end of a 600 mile journey just after 7:30 PM, and found it cold and dark. The house sits perched on a steep incline above the beach, between a stretch of wide empty coast to the west and the Pacific Coast Highway to the east. It is several miles south of Newport, and initially at least has a "middle of nowhere" feeling - no streetlights - no lights of any kind really, because even the stars and moon are hidden by the near-perpetual rain clouds. One feels engulfed and surrounded by darkness, and wilderness, and cold.

It awakens a primal fear, unusual for me - I who would cross central park alone at midnight, who grew up surrounded by wild darkness in the foothills and canyons above Pasadena, with a backyard that invited deer, coyotes, bobcats, bears. Still, I found myself checking and rechecking the locks, staring out the windows and into an uneasy nothingness. But what is it within yourself you are afraid of? I asked myself. As yet, no answer is forthcoming.

I woke from a nightmare that the house was being invaded by an invisible presence. It was 5 AM, still pitch black outside (it's only just beginning to go blue-grey now, an hour and a half later). Sleep seemed beyond me, and during my October fast I had come into the strange new habit of rising before dawn anyway. So now I sit, wide awake in the darkness, waiting for dawn.

The pressure is palpable today ... having now officially arrived at the "writer's retreat" which has been on the horizon for the last month. For the first time since starting this, I have nothing whatsoever scheduled in my datebook. Meanwhile, I've fallen behind. My goal for the day is to write at least 5000 words. A part of me shakes its head and moans, "Oh Jonathan, Jonathan, why do you get yourself into these situations?"

But I try to remind myself it's a great privilege. To retreat to a remote house on (what will in another hour be) a beautiful beach, and pursue my passion, undistracted. Or at least, significantly less distracted than usual.

The morning is on its way, and for the moment the rain is not coming down hard. I'll go for a walk on the cold, windy beach and watch the day break...