Served Any Time
Things borrowed from me and not returned:
Things I’ve borrowed and not returned:
I was getting my tea at Cafe Vita and across the room I saw someone I used to work with. I went over and said, “Hey Faulkner.” He glared up at me and I realized it wasn’t him. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.” On the way upstairs I realized that he probably thought I’d said, “Hey fucker!”
A man in a green winter jacket and matching baseball cap hops up the stairs and looks around. He walks up to a girl sitting in the window. “Excuse me. Do you know what time it is?” She answers. “Okay. I’d better get going.” He makes for the stairs. At the top step he pauses, turns back to the room, and yells out, “Bye everyone!”
Five truths & five lies about The Novel:
The first day’s writing ends with the phrase “fax machine”.
After yesterday’s particularly productive writing session I’ve been able to continue with no loss of momentum.
I’m using material from a comic strip I sketched out in 1996 as a springboard.
The afore mentioned recycled concept is as timely today as it was five years ago.
Adam Sandler is mentioned on the first page.
The second most used noun is “meeting”.
I often type my own name when I mean to type my protagonist’s name.
Elves are used whenever possible.
Excluding tenses of “to be” and “have”, “read” is the most frequently used verb.
The most frequently used adjective is “slap-happy”.
“I wonder if they call each other ahead of time and coordinate their outfits? Did you see this? Colin Powell and the Russian guy are wearing the same suits and ties. Oh, no they aren’t. Powell is wearing a double-breasted suit.”
In aid of preparing to write the novel, I spent a couple of hours at Victrola today writing notes, re-reading bits of Italo Calvino’s Mr. Palomar, but mostly staring out the window. I headed over to Horizon Books to browse. A copy of Calvino’s If on a winter’s night a traveler immediately caught my eye.
Shortly after coming across the National Novel Writing Month site last night, I commited myself to writing a 50,000 word novel in 30 days.
A little number crunching for perspective:
I don’t know anyone. I joined too late for the Seattle gathering and the little single-threaded Yahoo message board for the project is practically unnavigable & overwhelmed with noise. Oh well.
Though writing doesn’t start until Thursday, I’d better start cooking up some ideas.
WGN has their broadcast booth right on street level. They were doing a sports show as we walked past, one of the guys rattled off a few scores from games that were in progress. Seattle was beating Cleveland and I showed some mock-enthusiasm. The Chicago-natives and Parisians in our party were bemused.
I met a lot of people, renewed a few acquaintances, and was surprised a couple of times. I was able to explain my presence well enough but occasionally had trouble simply justifying my existence. Too much to make sense of right now.
Now I’m back home in Seattle and my socks are wet.
At an internet cafe in Chicago Mayor, Richard M. Daley. A few doors down from Quimby’s and its Chris Ware designed sign. Things is good. I like the el, we’re on good enough terms that I can call it el instead of “el”.
I walked around yesterday and what did I think of? Perfect Strangers, of course. I ended up down near the Magnificent Mile where there are all these jazz clubs. And I looked at the people and noticed how “well” they were dressed. In Seattle I rarely feel the need to dress up, even when I go to fairly upscale places. I just make sure my shirt tag is tucked in and I’m not even given a second glance.
I was wondering why I’d scheduled my flight for Thursday instead of Wednesday. Oh well, I thought.
Well, I’m supposed to reset the little date window in my watch after months that aren’t 31 days. I didn’t do that this month. It’s good I figured that out today instead of tomorrow.
I’m spending a couple of days in Chicago, then driving to Wisconsin for Mari and Jon’s wedding.