Monday, October 03, 2005

I must refrain...

Tom came to my aid today. Tom is not another blogger. He is a friend from the world beyond, he is a friend I have left behind. It is for Tom to secure my verdant square of turf in the great garden of English literature, and I have faith in him. His hands are like shovels - that should help.

Anyway, Tom's favo(u)r was to direct me away from the jagged rocks of lesser minds and back to my own struggles. For this I am grateful. My own struggles can be compared to those endured by the removal men, who were here at the apartment building again today. They were stuffing an elevator full of furniture. That's how I feel, working on my book.

Another minus is that I discovered Malcolm Bradbury was dead. He died in 2000. That's a shame, as I was lobbing Jack Puddings at him on a regular basis in one section of my book. I also had a joke about a film made by a would-be arsonist of Bradbury's home, titled - Fahrenheit 325: The Temperature at which Malcolm Bradbury's House Burns. Unless Bradbury returns from the dead, I am going to have to cross out a number of jokes, a depressing prospect.

On the plus side, I wrote this paragraph today -

"There are also people who may have made a different assumption, such as I levitated and glided towards the window. These people may have picked up this book from the wrong part of the bookstore; it may have incorrectly been put in the Fantasy section, for example. And these readers, being avid consumers of fantasy, are used to all manner of magical devices being employed as means of transport. Anything from magic carpets to teleportation, from the transfer of a person's individual atoms along a transparent tube of pure thought, to perambulation via enchanted rune-covered stilts. These people, indeed, may be so immersed in the fantasy genre that they find the simple notion of my walking absolutely incredible, and a welcome change from the overuse of the above mentioned methods. At this very moment, some teenager may be lying back on their bed with a blown mind and thinking, “Wow! He walked to the window. Cool. Maybe someday I'll walk to a window, too! And I'll look out and see a horde of goblins...” If you are that teenager, reading this, I wish you well, but you will find no goblins here."

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