-
RSS
-
Shameless Promotion
ISBN: 978-0-6151-5810-5
Lulu
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Free e-book -
Recommended Reading
-
Affiliates
Subscribe to our feed.
Going dark.
Hi folks,
Since I’m currently inundated with loads of real life things that need to be handled carefully and (in some ways) swiftly dealt with, I’ve decided to turn out on the light on the blog for a few weeks until everything has settled down.
“Everything” being my wedding. As of right now, there are only 19 days left, and my to-do list seems to keep increasing and not shrinking like it’s supposed to.
So there you have it. No posts from me until I’ve tied the knot and had a couple of days to recuperate.
Until then, I wish you all the best.
TK
The Wisdom of Madmen
My buddy Phil wrote a nice little review of The Cheese Monkeys, Chip Kidd’s debut novel and one of my all-time favorite books. I’ve written at length about Kidd before and, even though the sequel sort of lacked the charm the first one had (and actually sort of replaced that charm with a new kind of menacing darkness that was, in a word, unexpected), his work is still sharp, witty and knowledgeable. The Cheese Monkeys is one of those books that will teach you something without making you aware of it. After you read it, the next time you see a piece of advertising, you’ll pick it apart without so much as a thought, and then you’ll wonder just how in the hell you knew to do so. In any case, Phil nailed it, and I’m glad he liked it (because I’m the smug bastard who made him feel like less of a person for not having read it).
Nothing new to report, really. I know I’ve been saying that for, what, six months now? And nothing’s changed on that front. I’m still brainstorming, taking a lot of notes, doing a little research, and trying to keep my sanity while organizing a wedding that was supposed to be tiny and is becoming something else altogether not so tiny.
Erica and I applied for our marriage license yesterday. It was a painless experience with the exception of having to drive into the city to the court house, navigate traffic, park in a cramped parking garage, and mingle along the sidewalk with some of Reading’s finest. Two things made me laugh a lot yesterday morning:
1) After verifying and signing the marriage license forms, the young woman behind the desk pushed a plastic-covered Bible in front of both of us, asked that we put our hands on it, and swear to the following questions:
“Do you swear that the information you’ve provided is true to the best of your knowledge?”
“Yes,” we said.
And then:
“Are either of you intoxicated or under the influence of any illegal substances?”
Um.
We looked at one another, then reluctantly shook our heads. Then I laughed and asked how many times that’s actually happened.
“Just last week, as a matter of fact. They always lie, too. I can smell it on them.”
Finally, the third:
“Are either of you related?”
Our response: “We hope not.”
After all that was said and done, we had a marriage license pending with the state of Pennsylvania. I find that I am strangely fine with this.
And 2) On our way out of the courthouse and back to the parking garage, we passed the county coroner’s SUV. The trailer hitch on the back a silver skull with red eyes. A coated wire snaked out from behind the skull and under the carriage. I suspect the eyes glow when the brake pedal is pressed - in which case said coroner is by far the coolest coroner ever.
Other than that, nothing really spectacular is happening. I’ve been spending my evenings relaxing, trying not to melt in this perpetual heat wave, and brainstorming this new idea of mine. Oh, and I’m also doing a bit of research into things that greatly disturb me and also intrigue me (thanks, Amanda).
I hope to start this story soon.
For now I’m going to go cool off. Have a good one, folks.
TK
P.S. Did any of you Canadians hear about this? Seriously, what the hell?
Why so serious?
“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.
TK