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The Novel
First, let me tell you a little bit about the novel I'm working
on. Doing this is a balancing act: I don't want to tell you too much
and potentially lose my impetus for writing the thing, but at the same
time I want to tell you enough to arouse your curiosity. It's tough,
but I'll give it a try.
Okay, it's about this guy. He
lives in a big city. He's married. His goal is to create this great
thing, but his wife, a highly materialistic person, gets in the way.
So, he has a band of Uruguayan dwarfs kidnap her and take her to a hut
on the coast of Antarctica. Meanwhile, the dwarfs did a good job of
making the kidnapping look like a murder, and although the insurance
company is at first reluctant to give the guy a check for his wife's
death (where's the body?), they finally cough up half a mil.
Anyway, the dwarfs get greedy.
They say if he wants his wife back, he'll have to give them half the
insurance settlement minus taxes. But the husband doesn't want the
wife back; he just wants the money. So, in an effort to be
inconspicuous, he buys one of those new baby blue Thunderbird
convertibles and drives to a remote corner of Idaho. There he buys a
slew of weaponry, pounds holes in the walls of his cabin, and waits
for the midgets to show up. When they do, it's a bloodbath. And the
person who finally kills him? His wife. Turns out she was working with
the little people all along.
So, that's the novel. What do you
think?
Email me and let me know!
The Great Blackout of '03
When the lights went out earlier this summer, a lot of people
freaked out. Oh my God, you mean I can't watch TV for a day? I
can't dry my hair? The battery's dying on my cell phone, please help!
For a little while at least—like
when my wife's flight to San Francisco never left JFK and she was
stuck in Jamaica, Queens (just where a white girl wants to be during a
blackout)—I
freaked out a bit too. Luckily, she hailed an off-duty cab driver who
only charged her $150 for a ride home. Amazing how a crisis really
brings out the best in people.
In my opinion, the blackout
showed what sorry sacks of shit most of us are. I include myself in
this description because about every five minutes I moaned to my wife,
"You know, the TV, the microwave, the Internet, my electric toothbrush—I
can live without any of them. The only thing I need is A/C. I wouldn't
mind living in a state of nature, as long as there was air
conditioning."
"Shut the fuck up," Alexas said.
Thankfully, I was able to work on
my aforementioned novel using a 90-year-old L.C. Smith and Corona
"portable." I say "portable" because the typewriter, made of solid
cast iron, weighs more than your car. It types good, though, and I was
able to crank out quite a bit of work by daylight.
I have to admit, there were more
than a few moments when my cup runneth over with smugness. As I
listened to losers on the radio whine about not having flashlights,
batteries, candles, food, or water, I snickered and went to the closet
where my wife and I kept our cache of these items. One of the crates
contained supplies like sleeping bags, rope (enough to hang ourselves
if we grew tired of our own company), lighting devices, a propane
stove and fuel, a Gameboy, and a copy of Dale Carnegie's How to Win
Friends and Influence People. From the food crate, I pulled out a
can of SPAM, Hormel chili, and Dole pineapple chunks, and began
juggling them. Finally Alexas told me to eat them or put them away. So
I ate them, basking in the self-satisfaction that only a crate full of
food in a blackout can bring.
As night fell, however, I grew
concerned that a mob would form. During the sultry nights of the '77
Blackout, mobs here in New York smashed into stores and homes and
stole everything in sight except winter jackets and Elvis Costello
albums. I was determined to prevent anything like that from happening
to my little family (me, wife and cat), so I brought out the
weaponry....
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PROOF OF LIFE: This admittedly
bad photo proves that I've been
working on a novel. I'm up to
2 1/2" and going strong!
AN EDITOR'S "PICK": You're reading
a site that Yahoo! picked as an
Editor's Choice. I'm not sure how I
feel about the "pick" part, but oh, well.
BLACKOUT PANIC: Normally mild-
mannered NYC workers panicked the
day of the blackout. Note the white-
haired dude (foreground, left) speed-
walking. Also note the half-faced freak
on the bottom rt. Photo by
John Wehr.
DOING IT OLD SCHOOL: When the
lights went out, I switched to my
trusty L.C.Smith & Corona. Note
blur on left hand; yours truly
types with blinding speed.
A WHOLE LOT OF NOTHIN': If you
look closely, you can barely make
out a staircase in a NYC apartment
building. Such conditions are ripe for looters. Photo by
John Wehr
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