Thursday, December 6, 2012

Thursday Thuds.

I dreamed an artist was showing me a sketchbook of his drawings of a desert.

Showed lots of little pictures of plants and trees, rock formations, grizzled miners.

"That's great," I say.

He shakes his head.

"I think my son got it right."

He pulls out a sheet with a long undulating line at the bottom, a few rocks and trees and a huge sun overhead.

"My six year old is a better artist than I am."


I wonder if the feeling I have inside correlates to the quality of the writing.  I think it does, actually, at least as a first step.  My problem with Nearly Human was that was all from my head and I had to try to add the heart later and I'm not sure it worked.  I can try to add emotion and motivation -- but it will always be a bit shapeless in its arc.

Lesson learned.

For all their faults, Freedy and The Reluctant Wizard at least both come from my heart.

I love the "high concepts" of both Freedy -- Cyberpunk Hobbit, and Nearly Human -- Cthulhu versus Fairy.  

The Reluctant Wizard is fantasy -- like the kind I used to write.  No "high concept" that I can pull out of it.   Just a story.  I can do those all day long.


Interesting that people want to be Mayor.  Increased duties without increased benefits.  Except to say,  "I was Mayor!'

40 years ago I ran across an old drunk on Bond Street, and me and my friends were probably being less than respectful, because as some point the old drunk shouted,

"I was Mayor of this town!"

Anyway, the desire to run for public office is completely absent in me.  I did it once or twice in high school and embarrassed myself.  I would have been the worse person to vote for...


If nothing else, working the store reminds me of why I couldn't write all those years.  It totally drains me -- even easy, routine days.  Hell, half the time I need another day to decompress.

Writing and clerking are incompatible.  I'm not sure why.

I also get terribly talkative and most of the talk is about writing and much of it sounds egotistical.

Eyes glaze, people edge out the door.  Heh.


I've gotten 10 copies of "How To Tell If Your Cat Is Plotting To Kill You," and sold about half in a short time.

Everyone has the same response, though.  Something along the line of:  "I know my cat is plotting to kill me."

"You know," one customer said to me.  "When people die, dogs will usually at least wait until they're hungry before they start eating you..."

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