Remembering When (3)
To generally muted enthusiasm.
Remembering When (3)
Remembering When (2)
Remembering When (1)
The file name is “dream” and the date modified is “6/6/2010”
Last night, I had to drive to the keys with everyone (Iʼm pretty sure Tom and Teresa were all there, at least), and the journey was so odd. we had to go through this desolated mountain area, and along a beach. We were traveling in the Suburban. So, I think we stopped along this beach and I was staring at a trash can and I saw a turtle in the trash, and I remember saying something like, “why is this turtle in the trash!?” and then someone (maybe it was Teresa) came over said something along the lines of “Oh, I think that is Tristanʼs turtle,” and then either “I think he wants it back,” or “I donʼt think he wants it anymore,” and regardless of the answer, I couldnʼt just leave the poor thing there.
So, I took the turtle, who was greatly dehydrated, and found a hose, and I remember asking if we had anything to put the turtle in and of course we didnʼt, and so then I tried to spray the turtle off, and I ended up applying to much pressure I guess, and the turtleʼs head comes off. The body is still trying to walk around and the head is opening its mouth and closing it slightly and Iʼm sort of repulsed. So then, Teresa comes over and mentions something like, “Aww, thatʼs too bad.”
After that, we continued on our journey, which took us up into these pretty desolate mountains/hills. Once we got there, we stopped at a rest stop and everyone was giving me a hard time about the turtle kind of like when I put gas in the diesel and I felt awful because I had killed that turtle. Anyway, Iʼm pretty sure we met up with my dad after that who took some of the stuff that was in the car because we had too much and it was rather cramped. And then everyone got back in the car and tracked mud everywhere because the mountain was muddy and I was cross and upset because I had killed the turtle and now I was going to have to clean the car because there was mud everywhere in it.
I think that’s enough hard drive cleaning for one day.
“I usually don’t write like this. Either it doesn’t work—I don’t get to the point of whatever I’m thinking about—or it’s just really bad. Seems like recently, it’s just been bad.”
I think subconsciously every time I start writing something, like the first time at least, it’s written with the mindset it’s being read by a first person narrator verbally illustrating the pan-shot of his house, or his parents house, or the car he’s either riding in or driving—something cute like that, something that illustrates setting. It’s the scene right before you meet the character for the first time. So you haven’t seen his face, you don’t know what to look out for—but you’ve probably gotten some innate clues into the character’s lifestyle. Maybe it’s a cigarette in an ashtray, you know, maybe it’s the girl he’s just fucked (or at least a close up of her panties hanging off a chair)—I mean something like that.
So that sentence, the first time I write, really has a lot riding on it. Which turns out isn’t terribly fair, because it’s likely to come out really shitty.
That first moment, that pivotal voice that you’re hearing for the first time—It’s like, I feel like I have to write it correctly that first time. If I don’t get it right, it’s never going to be as good as it would’ve been if I got that seamless introduction right, for both you later when you read it, and for myself at the time being when I wrote it. Man, I’d be pretty proud.
Unfortunately, that’s insane.
These cats have traveled more of the world than you or I.
Except for the black one. He’s a local. But he’s British.
What if I came to Orlando this weekend?
Would you like that, world? Share with me, your thoughts.
Share with, me, your thoughts.
Share, with me your thoughts.
Share, with, me, your, thoughts.
Social media and tumblr and stuff are so great because you can totally get to know people without getting to know people.
It’s like Diet Friendship.
Letters I’ve never sent, some of which are readable.
I’m getting good at quotes and speccing things out.
If, at the beginning of the year you asked me to get a four color offset job to the press with perforation and folding, I probably would’ve looked at you like you had a third eye. Or at least a big zit on your cheek.
But now, I just dutifully bow my head and ask if you’ll need a matching A7 envelope and mailing service. Is four colors enough, or do you really want to give it some punch with a bumper color?
Yes, so much new information about the exciting world of printing. A world printers everywhere are calling “not dead.”
It’s not dead, though. It might be shrinking, but I still think print materials give you a different kind of way to connect with people so in tune with technology. So here’s to the written word. And its longevity.