A Novel Idea
For the past several months I've been working very hard on a fictional novel. Once I'm through with it I'm thinking of trying to write one myself.
Seriously, though, I've already taken a stab at it. And after countless hours of staring at my computer screen, agonizing over each syllable, repeatedly revising whole sentences and logging some serious nap time, I have approximately one and a half pages of rough draft. So what began as a simple germ of an idea has blossomed into merely a thought with a gland condition. Of course, this can be traced directly to the fact that I have the attention span of an adolescent spider monkey on crack.
Even during my years as a slave to nicotine I smoked cigarettes almost exclusively. Not because of the delicate aroma. Not because I liked the way carrying the pack in my shirt pocket made one breast appear larger than the other. Not because I felt the sleek lines of a cigarette made me look "cool". Well, okay, maybe that was part of it, but, the main reason was that after puffing on a cigarette for 5 to 7 minutes I could stomp it out with my heel (another very "cool" move, by the way) and fire up another one immediately. On the other hand, I might spend literally days fiddling and fumbling with a cigar, and having removed the cellophane, there was still the process of smoking the blasted thing.
Obviously, the cigar is analogous to a complete book, and, the cigarettes are representative of a breast-feeding deprivation and delayed puberty brought on by a domineering fath...um...or, they could be indicative of my preference for shorter articles and essays. Yes, that's right. Clearly symptoms of my inability to remain focused.
Speaking of mollusks, it finally boils down to the fact that someone must accept culpability for such a glaring character flaw. I think we all know who that is.
Society. Our parents. The local radial tire dealer. Pick a name.
We live in an age of instant gratification where it seems that no one need take responsibility for his or her own actions. An age of fast cars, fast food, fast money, fast food, fast women...
Good God! What a wonderful time to be alive!
We should all fall immediately to our knees and give thanks to whichever deity might respond the quickest that we live in a culture where for a few dollars, and about 10 spare minutes of our time, the entire family can pile into the mini-van, run down the block and be back parked in front of the TV munching on a "Bucket O' Dead Fowl Bathed in Grease" (extra crispy) before tip-off of the Laker's game. Whereas, if we lived in one of the more underdeveloped nations, it would take hours just to maneuver our oxen around to the drive-thru window at Burger King. And by the time we got back to our hut by the river the game would be over, there would be nothing to watch but old "Laverne & Shirley" reruns, and our fries would be cold. Sure, occasionally we get cold fries in the United States, but thank goodness we can blame that pimply-faced pip-squeak behind the grill!
What was I talking about, again? Oh yeah, the Eisenhower administration.
Even if I were to pen a full-length manuscript it would probably be your typical, run-of-the-mill, boy meets girl, boy misplaces girl, boy spends several chapters having keen adventures while trying to remember where he last saw girl, boy ends up in gypsy caravan as a cross-dressing fortuneteller married to a senator from Oklahoma kind of story. Or, a riveting science fiction novel where the protagonist (Greek for "gullible weenie") gets sucked into a parallel universe through a portal created by the grime in his shower stall, spends several chapters having keen adventures and ends up a senator from Oklahoma married to a cross-dressing gypsy fortuneteller. Or, maybe a cross-dressing gypsy senator from Oklahoma who marries a rodeo clow...Ah, the hell with it.
Gotta light?
Skip the book! I want to go right to the movie version!
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As soon as I find backers I'll start filming.
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This reminds me of why you are one of my favorite writers of all time. The attention span of an adolescent spider monkey on crack is a wonderful thing when combined with such talent as yours.
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Thanks Shelly. You've always been much too kind.
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Tell you what - you write it, I'll buy it. I mean that.
And seriously, I have been thinking about asking if you wanted to collaborate on something sometime. I think you and I would complement each other's styles nicely.
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Thanks, Wolf. It might be worth it just to throw a scare into Wordvixen.
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Talk about a short attention span...
you never told us what you were reading!
Duh.
Cheers,
Mitch
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The comic book version of "Critique of Pure Reason".
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Serious novels? Tried that. I have one that needs a LOT of work. Urgh. Ah. But I still smoke cigarettes, not that it makes me think of breastfeeding.
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You'd better get busy rewriting.
I quit several years ago. And you know what ex-smokers always say about "still wanting one"? Never happened. Haven't had a craving, yet.
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Gee, when you asked who to blame, I thought you were going to pick Wolf. I would.
*would be terrified if Pin and Wolf co-wrote a book- before buying the store's entire stock*
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Perhaps I'll consent to a collaboration just to have someone handy to blame. And to scare the bejesus out of you.
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Uh . . . yeah. Well, maybe other than the cross-dressing gypsy thing; that's been done (Jane Eyre).
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I guess I'll have to read that one of these days.
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The Count started out with cigarettes but after you rolled them up in one arm of your t-shirt and tried to look like James Dean that was about it. So, I switched to a pipe for the next decade or two. You automatically take on an aura of thoughtfulness and a pleasant smell. But, I quit that too...and now I'm quite happy with my other remaining character flaws. Count Sneaky
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Yes, vices should be nurtured one at a time. The only time I ever tried to smoke a pipe I lost my supper in the family room.
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Go with that last plot line, bum me a smoke and get on over to writers group...
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I've quit smoking, but I'll see you at the group, hopefully. Thanks for reading! And commenting!
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I do believe you have a great title to your novel here: "The Spider Monkey's Attention Span"; or, perhaps:" Revenge of the Spider Monkey's Attention Span."
It will be a funny one! My best. Count Sneaky
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Thanks, Count. I'll take those titles under advisement.
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