yeah

I came out of the midnight showing of NARNIA to see the snow coming down in full force. Utterly perfect, I thought, so mystified that I almost didn't consider the drive back. Driving back home proved to be a nerve-wracking affair, but I managed to make it all right, the snow still as constant and strong at home as it was at the theater. I was thinking about running on LJ and ranting about the movie, but once I arrived home and watched the snow coming down all around, I decided to do something else.

I pulled up one of the tall wicker Indonesian chairs from from the porch to the front of the steps, facing the corner of my street where the streetlight stood. I went upstairs and grabbed my clay pipe and the tabacco I bought but never thought I'd ever actually use. Then I sat out on the porch and to the chair. And I spent the next hour doing nothing. Not worrying about anything. Not rambling away about geek matters. Not even thinking. For the first time since I can ever remember, there was not a single thought buzzing away in my head.

As if an omen, or maybe just another funny coincidence, a fox slinked out of the neighbor's yard and ran up the length of 81st Street. It paid me no mind and continued along its way, seemingly unconcerned about the snow or the cold. I didn't mind either. The cold was not unbearable. The cold was dry and lovely and comforting and I would not have had it any other way. For once in my life, perhaps for the first time in my life, I didn't desire anything other than what I had. I just spent the hour in my solitude, smoking my pipe and watching the snow in the streetlight.

I do not know how often such moments come to a person, but this is one I shall carry with me for the rest of my life.

now that the serentiy has passed and geekdom has once more taken hold...

TILDAISEVILHOTEMMAFROSTOOMPALOOMPASMINOTAURSBRITISHKIDSJIMBROADBENTDIDISAYOOMPALOOMPAYESDEEPROYLIAMNEESONRAYWINSTONEOMGWTFSANTACLAUS!!!!!!!

Ok. Guess I'm gonna have to read the rest of the books now.

Dude. Santa...!

ok, plan B?

"Dear John,

Thanks a million for sending your manuscript our way. We enjoyed reading
it, and of course are thrilled to receive references from B_____. I have
to confess, however, that we're very skeptical about all fiction these
days, as it is very hard to sell, and I don't see a way to make your
material into something we would know how to represent well. I apologize
for the delay in getting back to you. Good luck with this project, and
my very best regards.

Sincerely,
Yadda Yadda Yadda"

Ok, so now what? Start to try to shop it around to publishers on my own? Look for another agent? Go into self-publishing?

Alternatively/simultaneously, should I try to finish THE HEFNER MONOLOGUES as a book? I think THM would be more palpable for the tastes of today's market, generally speaking. A bit more for the David Sedaris/Garrison Keillor/Denis Leary crowd, y'know?

I still want my novel to see the light of day and to reach an audience somehow.