November 14, 2009
Launch party writing
For those who missed it, during the party we masochistically asked the audience for writing prompts. We then each (Alex, Duane and I) picked two at random and used them to write something in fifteen minutes. The results were then read out loud, whatever they were.
I wanted to share with you what I wrote last night. The prompts I got were “Fire extinguisher” and “Pirates”. So here it goes.
We were told not to come here. “Do not sail these waters,” the man had said back in Abu Dhabi after shaking his bone amulet. “If you go there, you could die. Or worse, you could survive.”
I would have liked to listen to the man with the bone amulets, I’m usually a listen to ominous warnings type of captain, but I could not. Not with what’s in my cargo hold. It’s got to be delivered to Akambo before nightfall on the 31st. The fate of the forever fire depends on it.
And everything could have been fine. But fate and the bone amulet have spoken. I forgot to replace the fire extinguishers on the Reliant, my old rusting Norwegian cargo that I won three years ago from a Swedish captain at a poker game. Apparently, that didn’t include fire extinguishers in working order.
So now, Somali pirates are boarding my old cargo.
I stand in front of their captain, a sweaty, stinky, bald gut with teeth that smell like the back end of an albatross, and he’s telling me to hand over my cargo. I can’t. Akambo will kill me in a much more unpleasant way than these amateur pirates could. So the smelly-teeth captain stares at me and grins, and then flicks his lighter. There’s Diesel all over the bridge, the Reliant leaks it from everywhere. I try to stop the man, think of the bon figurine, it was grinning too, I recall. And then the captain drops the lighter. Fire. No extinguishers. The pirates leave. As they get off the ship, the captain drops a bone figurine on the deck, laughing.
Fire. No extinguishers. Fireworks are coming.
November 9, 2009
Preview for Alexander Newcombe's "Ten Kinds of Places"
November 4, 2009
Time, writing, November 13
So, I feel a lot has been happening in the world, but I am removed from it. I mean I have not heard about all of the world’s problems over the past few days, but I am certain they are still there. Besides H1N1, no escaping that one... School has sucked me in deep.
I have had ideas, but no time to write. My ideas for my next short story are accumulating, but without time they are doing only that. The more time the ideas bounce around up there, the better they will be I feel. Time can let me see and think about them from different angles. When I say think, I mean the kind of thinking that happens at random unpredictable moments, on the bus, falling asleep, in the midst of an unrelated conversation when maybe I should be paying attention… After such moments if I am lucky, they end up on random bits of paper. If I am even luckier those bits of paper are not lost.
Why do I write them down? Well ideas are very clear when they happen and during the moment I feel I won’t forget them, only I know better. In a deeper sense, why do I write them down? Why do I write anything? Not certain. Partly to tell a story that is. Partly to flex creativity because it craves to be.
The creative process is intriguing and if anyone has comments or ideas on it then feel free.
Also, just a reminder that there will be a thing, the HBM launch with good music and such at Burritoville, 2055B Bishop Street, Friday, November 13 at 8. I imagine it somewhat like a house party.