The Calm Before the Calm

A pleasant distraction if only for an 'oasis in the cesspool' moment…. 

A long lost friend had contacted me on FaceBook- someone whose inevitable future critique I had always regarded with a certain wincing, as he was as brutally honest as he was perceptive… a 'no bull shit' excoriation of my thin skin was long overdue when it came to my closely guarded flim-flammed secret of my writing disabilities.

A Jack of all Trades, I always thought he would be best suited as an unpandering Book Reviewer- leading an apostastic revolution against the drooling sycophantish types whose deluded mastery of word butchery starts out as bothersome and goes downhill from there- Why the fuck must we put up with them? - They're the print equivalent of Bravo TV with psoriasis

He was unexpectedly positive about some of the stories he'd read on the blog, comparing the style of writing to a "Confederacy of Dunces"- Although in my case it's a majority of one.

 

I rarely read anymore, especially since I took up writing - I am scared I'll be influenced by the talented types and lose my tone- so I just dip a toe in the water now and then to see if they write well enough to take note.  I'd just had a passing notion of the title and knew less than nothing else about it…but I always like to see what the competition is up to, if it's actually brought to my attention.  

Well if I'm to follow in the author's footsteps, the guy killed himself at 32 which means I"m on the right track but just procrastinating… This John Kennedy Toole was pretty funny but having edited my book for the zillionth time, there was no way I was going to help this dead guy with his ( was 'Kennedy' a nickname  boxers are given like Smokin' Joe or Tommy the 'Hitman"? Or did he give it to himself like john cougar mellencamp- still one of the world's greatest mysteries…) 

 It had a surreal zany mish-moshed feel that was very familiar, although the content was completely different but I probably would have the same constraints back in the sixties when this book must've been written as he deleted himself  in '69

Bottomline: an unexpected compliment and I'll always welcome the dirty win…although I can really think why I feel this one's dirty..

I guess because there's nothing sweeter in Life than something undeserved and there's nothing more undeserved than a dirty win.

2. If I die of a broken heart it's probably because I slammed 

into something really hard

I entitled this blog installment: 'the calm before the calm' as the Book finally goes Online next week- much to the levels of foofaraw & fanfare that would make dentures fall into milquetoast…..A non-event of such epic proportions that erectile dysfunction and constipation are green with impotence envy

While my frosted side thinks it's nothing short of Nirvanic that will go viral on the internet and it's talk show circuit time in an ascot- my plain side remains  convinced that the sun never sets on my failures and it will be undiscovered until it's too late - like a Girlfriend who does the crawl back after you've become a beloved pornstar….

A destiny rife with disappointment and fat chicks

I just marvel at how many certified genii were overlapped by waves of inconsequence- their talents drowned by non-recognition:

 PF Sloan

 Margo Guryan

 Billy Nicholls

 and now, Toole- what good is post-humous recognition except for compost?  And old age dulls the bevel to any edge…. pale comfort in what could have been such glorious reveling in their talents

As my Dad use to say' When you stop hitting your head against the wall, it feels pretty good'  but he was never a quitter in what he believed in- so let the cards fall where they may, most likely under the carpet where no one can see them…but

There's always my second book ;D