Every three to four years, my father forgets that he’s already sent me this comic and sends it to me again*. The best humor is true so I laugh every time, then dutifully cut it out and paste it to the back or inside of my current writing notebook. Every time I breach the clean innards of a new notebook, I immediately mar the inside of the front cover with a poignant quote, then spend the next few months adding more whenever a particular picture or turn of phrase strikes my fancy. And by poignant, I mean stuff like:
I’m way off track. The point is, I wasn’t going to do this but my editor squeezed it out of me in a phone call yesterday: I’m planning on publishing the final chapter to “On the Corner of Pine & Meyer” this coming Monday. It’s 75% written, but of course the problem–and the question of whether I’ll make that deadline–is that pesky 25%. It’s something of a mess right now and I’ve spent the past two evenings picking away at it, trying to decide if this story classifies as horror.
*I exaggerate. Not about the three to four years thing, but because he’s actually only sent it to me twice. I made fun of him the second time but printed it off anyways, as this version had been scanned and not sent through the postal service. Still recognized the source as his daily calendar though.