TBT #40: I Can Make You Feel

I’ve been home in Oakville for almost a week and I am concerned. Concerned because I haven’t been inspired to write since I got home. It seems that this house and this city do not inspire me in the same ways that Halifax does. It’s probably just a matter of giving it time — of waiting until I adjust to my new surroundings. Honestly, I got so used to my life in Halifax that I would notice the little things. Like the steam off the pavement at night and the sound of the ocean: the sort of detail that inspires allegorical tales of loneliness and longing and other words than start with ‘l’. At home, things seem less familiar, less defined. My observations move from wordy crap like “the dawn brought with it golden rays that warmed the room and painted colours on the floor” — whatever THAT means — to, like, “Wow, check out this couch! It’s awesome! And comfortable!” And while it may be that the latter is more truthful and honest than the former, I’m not sure it evokes the sort of feelings that I want my writing to evoke. I don’t want to tell people about couches, god dammit, I want to make them feel!

The Best Things for May 2, 2005 are whatever you are feeling right now.

The Great Summer, Take Three

It’s impossible to define summer because, well, it’s not any one thing. It’s at the same time desirable and detestable: full of both promise and panic, boredom and brouhaha, alliteration and annotation, meaning and meaninglessness. I was thinking today, as I lay in bed reading internet message forums, is that, for whatever reason, I don’t feel like summer has really STARTED yet. So I’m not really doing anything. “Summer will start later!” I’ve been saying to myself, convinced that whenever summer DOES start, I’ll get out there and make it great. But I’m not sure it ever WILL start. At least not in the six-friends-working-at-a-resort, burying-Screech-in-the-sand, kissing-Stacy-Kerosi-during-the-Fourth-of-July-fireworks sense. That sort of summer is idyllic such that its unattainable, so much so that summer essentially becomes the SEARCH for summer. It gets good, but never perfect, and at the end you’re like “Wow, that went by really quickly.” Even if it didn’t.

Weird, isn’t it?

When I am an adult, which I am figuring will be in five or ten years, I guess there will be no summer. The year will just be a circle, a cycle, a silly little merry-go-round that isn’t merry and doesn’t really GO. It will be round, though — I can be sure of that — and there might be a jaunty (or, god forbid, not so jaunty) little tune. I wonder, will I miss summer then? Will I miss the feeling of progression, of moving on, of having a so-called ‘break’? Or will I just shrug my shoulders, kick up the jams and wear a cloak made of money? The answer is probably a little bit of both.

Think I Was Blind Before I Met You

I have, using OS X’s awesome STICKIES program — virtual sticky notes! How great is that? — made a list of things I want to write this summer. Presented here, for the first time ever, is that list:

1) Dying girl sex fiend
2) Middle-aged writer going blind
3) Sweet relationship story — couple having a baby; dude comes from a crazy/tragic family. Worries a lot.
4) Reality Fiction
5) Robots?

The thing I like about this list is that my ideas are so fleshed out. “Dying girl sex fiend” is the best because, honestly, I have no idea what that means. I guess I may have, as some point, had a clear picture of what would be an awesomely poignant and perhaps hilarious story about a dying girl who is a sex fiend but I could not tell you what it is now. It’s a good title though, isn’t it? I should probably write something with that title, just to ensure that nobody else steals that title and keeps it in a cage and uses it to make cosmetics or whatever.

Number two was likely going to be Chapter #478 in my “Old Man Dying” series of short stories. Except this guy wasn’t going to be an old man. And he probably wasn’t going to die in the story. He was just going to go blind! I think this one came to me a few weeks back when I was reading about all the big twentieth century authors. It started with Hemingway (And his microfiction, that led to the weird “…Never Worn” from a few weeks ago) and that led me to Fitzgerald who — wouldn’t you know it — started to go blind. Or, wait, maybe he did not. Maybe his wife just went crazy. I always confuse that with blindness. Regardless, this could be a good story and I think I will still write it so, again, don’t steal it you vultures!

Number three came about as I was thinking about what kind of measures I would take, as a parent, to ensure my child did not become a hideous psycho killer or, like, the Green Goblin or something. Because if I was a parent and my child became a psychopathic super-villain I would probably feel like a bit of a bad parent. Like I went wrong somewhere. You’d turn on the news and your kid would be chucking pumpkin bombs at the Chrysler Building and you’d be like “Shit, shouldn’t have let him eat so much chocolate!” Or something. I don’t know. I have never written about parenting because — and I’m sharing something very personal here — I am not a parent. I do not have children. I did have a gerbil once. It lived in a maze. It died.

Number four? Who knows. Reality Fiction! It’s like fiction meets reality TV! I will make a BUNDLE. A bundle of RAGS.

Number Five? Robots. Those stupid robots. How I hate them!

Stay tuned because all these stories, and more, are going to be written whenever summer starts!

Dirty Words On A Dirty Wall

Here are other things that have inspired me and may inspire you.

• You know when you’re watching a movie or reading a book or something and you realize that, hey, this whole story was MY idea but I just hadn’t thought of it yet? Those are my favourite movies and books. I hate the guys who write them, but I love them nonetheless.
• I have no idea what kind of story would use this line, but I’ve been thinking lately that “The K is silent” would be a really nice closing line to a story of some kind. It could be really sad. Like, “‘God,’ she sighed, thinking of all the tiles.’The k is silent, isn’t it?’” I don’t know. Something like that would be really good. Feel free to steal this one; I don’t think I am going to use it.
• Ben Folds’ new album “Songs for Silverman” is much better than you think it is. When I first heard it, I was like eh. But I listened to it again! And again and again! And it is good; trust me. You will like it eventually.
• Okay, here’s something else you can try: Whenever anyone makes a declarative statement along the lines of “Wow, it got really busy” you follow-up with “Yes, like the tides.” I do not have a lot of experience to back this up, but my feeling is that no one would ever really question you on this, even if it was completely ridiculous. “It got really cold this afternoon.” “Yes, like the tides.” “My grandmother took a turn for the worse.” “Yes, like the tides.” See, the great thing is that it usually makes sense, even when it doesn’t, really. I think it will make you sound smarter!
• If you are driving at night and you start to worry that maybe there is a man in your back seat who snuck into your car when you were parked, just start singing along really badly to whatever is on the radio. I don’t care how much of a psycho killer the guy in the back seat is, there is no way he is going to be able to listen to my warbly but heartfelt rendition of Verve Pipe’s The Freshmen without laughing and, then, giving himself away! Allowing me to take evasive action!
• Isn’t it pretty weird that “Hey” is an acceptable answer to the question “What’s up?” I use it all the time. “What’s up?” people say, as a greeting. “Hey,” I answer. Only that’s not an answer at all. “Hey” cannot be up.
• Next week’s The Best Things will be entitled The Top 10 characters from Degrassi Junior High. I am completely serious about this. I would have done it this week but I feel I need to review the episodes more thoroughly. It will be an awesome list. Even if you have not seen the show, you will find it interesting and hopefully inspiring! Like this! This is inspiring!
• The weird thing about being home is when you go to have some chips and then you’re like, “Hey, somebody ate my chips!” And then you realize, hey, they were not even my chips to begin with. I am home. They are everybody’s! Furthermore, I did not even pay for these chips. And, also, this is not my house. It’s a lot of thoughts coming at you at once, isn’t it? And then at the end, you’re a little confused, and still hungry. Because there are no chips.

Bye-Bye Goodbye

That about does it. I hope you are inspired and/or feeling various emotions. If you would like to contribute to this week’s update, feel free to reply with your two favourite emotions. They don’t have to be emotions you are feeling now, just ones that you enjoy feeling the most from time to time! Mine are as follows: malaise and fuzzy. Now you go.

Transcendental,
Matt