Friday, October 5, 2007
I realize that this is neither here nor there, but I've been working on this zombie novel for three and half years. Well, truth be told, for the last two years I've been actively avoiding finishing it. It's a sick dance. I look at it, it looks at me, and then I move away slowly, but not without a certain elegance.
But then, all of the sudden last night I realized what my problem was: I lacked a proper metaphor in which to frame my tale of blind brain eating. So I wisely chose to not look for the metaphor, nor wait for the universe to give me one. Instead, I thought I'd do what has become a time honored tradition in my family. Give up.
Then, just as I was getting used to the idea of finally not shooting suspicious glances at the pile of notebooks (I old fashioned), the ideal metaphor crept on spider legs into the forefront of my consciousness. Damn! Now I have to finish the cursed thing! My hand is already cramping up in anticipation.
After it's done, I guess I get to explore the exciting world of self publishing. Miss Kitty? Do we have room for crates of books in the basement?