“So what have you been up to, Todd?”
I’ve been up to my neck in wedding stuff. Wedding rings: ring sizes, whether or not it’s really going to cut off circulation to my ring finger or serve as some kind of permanent shackle or branding thus marking Erica’s ownership; clothing: a wedding dress and endless modifications that serve as a reminder that I am marrying someone who must’ve been a seamstress in a past life; invitations: who and who not to invite, and how to make that arbitrary decision based on who slighted you at that family picnic ten years ago and who never bothered to acknowledge your high school or college graduations so why even bother wasting postage on them, and then suddenly remembering you have to acquire addresses – physical and virtual – for all of them; planning: wherein you slowly, methodically pull your hair out while trying to coordinate entire caravans of family and friends from all parts of the country to converge upon a single spot in your home state, and you realize that what you’re planning might as well be the Normandy invasion; decorations: as in, holy shit those really can’t cost that much, can they? And the sudden, disheartening realization that capitalism is a double-edged sword and that a packet of confetti will be marked up five dollars if it says “wedding” on it, whereas that same package of “every day” confetti, featuring the same exact black, white and silver confetti bits are way cheaper, less insulting, and far more reasonable.
Surprisingly, the least stressful part of all of this is the concept of marriage itself, in that I’ll be binding myself to Erica forever. That’s something that’s always been, for what seems like forever (and not in a bad way), and for this I am truly, truly grateful.
Writing? What’s this writing of which you speak? Oh! Writing. Yes, that. Nothing as of late, but I do have ideas. Plenty of ideas. Including one very close to home that’s this close to being put to paper if I could actually have two seconds to sit down, focus on it long enough, and not sweat my balls off. My office is notorious for its lack of ventilation and air conditioning. The best I can do is a fan that circulates hot air. A couple of summers ago, I wrote the first draft of imagiNATION in such conditions, taking frequent breaks to hydrate myself and wipe the sweat out of my eyes.
There is, however, an idea that’s been brewing for a long time now that may finally spill over onto the page. If I had to sum it up, it would be about the danger of beliefs, the nature of religion, modern magic, cults, and the end of the world. Or something. I was going to work on a sci-fi story centered on licensing technology, but this one has started to creep up into my thoughts more and more. I guess it’s time to heed the call.
The tentative title is Indigo Children which refers to a group of people in the story itself, and was inspired by the Puscifer song of the same name. When things start to fit together like that, you can’t ignore them.
I think that’s about it for now. Oh, and if you haven’t seen The Dark Knight yet, you need to drop everything you’re doing and go see it right now.
Yes. It’s that good.