Thursday, October 23, 2003
The less said about last night, the better. That nagging certainty that I was not where I should have been, and that, because of that temporal and spacial mislocation, all things will come out somehow differently. That was the predominant sensation of the evening.
Yesterday, Spooky and I went to the Farmer's Market in Decatur and got two exquisitely huge pumpkins for carving.
The news of Elliot Smith's death was an odd, sad sort of shock. We listened to "Miss Misery" and "Needle in the Hay," and thought about him a bit.
I have three stories to write, and not a single "idea." Of course, I rarely "get ideas," in any case. I get impressions that set me to writing and slowly coalesce into stories. I've talked about this before. Probably lots of times. Anyway, at the moment I haven't even any decent impressions. But, nonetheless, I have three stories to write. And I need to begin reading through Murder of Angels, reading it as a whole, which I've not yet done. But that's changing the subject. Three stories. And I tell myself, hey self, stories are easy. They're not like those damned novels. They're a breeze. They're short. Well, my self replies, they are short, and I'd certainly rather write them than novels, which are always too long and therefore usually forced, but I wouldn't say that they are easy. None of it's ever easy. And I have to sigh and agree, because my self is older and wiser than me and too often right. They do take less time, I add. That's something. True, my self concedes. That is something, I'm just not sure what.
Sometimes we go on like this for hours, my self and I.
Three stories.
Meanwhile, to celebrate Halloween, anyone who snags a book or CD or t-shirt from the eBay auctions between now and midnight on November 1st will receive one of the little monsters that I'm always doodling. Each one is unique and I'll even sign and date them. Your monster will be yours and yours alone, unlike anyone else's little monster. Some have tentacles. Some have claws. Some have big, bulgy eyeballs. One free, with every item purchased on eBay. This is called incentive. I thought about sending candy, but then I thought it might melt and get sticky in the mail, so I'm sending little monsters, instead.
I finally upgraded from the Safari beta to Safari 1.0 yesterday. The best browser I've ever used.
And that means that I've probably run out of things to write about this morning. Well, bloggish things, at least. Thanks to David LeMoine, for sharing his thoughts on fate and freewill. And to Vicky Gashe, for sparing a few nice words for the mad woman. And to Rick ("dethbird"), for sharing with me his own unhappy experiences with the publishing industry. You are all little voices in the darkness, and voices are the same as lights.
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