dr. doooom's answering machine

Tony mentioned a while ago that it’s like national novel writing month or some shit like that. um, I don’t know if that was actually what it was but it involved some rationale beyond the normal creative parameters for writing a beyond the normal scope short story ie stretching out certain ideas and characterizations to the point that you could make a book out of it.

So that’s what I started doing last nite. Cranked out some crap for like 15 minutes before bed time. Got about a page. And you know whut? I really liked it. I think I’ve got something. Something totally new, at least for me. My problem in the past with trying to write anything beyond some random ass gruel has been the painstaking annoyance of being forced to follow a storyline, keep things in some kind of chronology while carrying the stream of events like a hunch’s back, but I think I happened upon a group of characters in my mind and a writing style and a tableau and range of possible occurrences both in and out of the theatre of consciousness in which I can play to my strengths and do some rambling while at the same time telling what I hope will be a fairly decent story.

We’ll see how it goes, but at the time it felt like one of the easiest page I’d ever written in my life. And I could already think of about 85 different ways I could take it, but I decided I’m not gonna think about it until I sit down again tonite before beddie-bye and crank out another page, at the least. I’m just gonna see where the medulla takes me and this small group of shenanigan sheisters and observe as the tale gets told. I want it to be like I’m just along for the ride and it happens to be my fingers tapping the keys that imparts the knowledge. I even edited, just a little, but I’m not gonna do that too heavy either, save a big phat edit for later, but I’m so bad at waiting for that shit, I want to constantly reread but I’m gonna try to avoid it and let the izms spackle.

I’m not gonna try to force it to be centered around one character, but I have a feeling that, for the most part, that’s how it’ll be. It’s third person narration, but in the style of which everything is seen from the eyes of one guy for the most part, but it’s not like “I was born a poor black child” or anything like that, it’s like “joe malone knew he liked pop tarts, and no one would ever stop him from that.” like that.

So anyway, it felt good to write something fresh, I’m not shelving the other thing I’ve been working on, well I guess I am, but I’m not tossing it out or anything, and not the other thing either, well, um, that thing is done, but it needs a serious rewrite, and like prolly a quarter of it needs to be completely rehashed. For now I just want to concentrate on this little dillio I stumbled onto in my brain’s septic tank last nite & run with it.

And of course I will continue to impart random nonsense to the contingent while staring off into the distance. I mean, geez, this is like my flexing, my noggin exercise, without which my neural pathways may become crusty and gunk infested, and we can’t have that, no no no. and again, as always, muchas gracias and danke shein for being a willing witness to the, um, whatever the fuck this is.