Finally I have a visual of what my days are like. Thanks to this ad for the second season of the Sarah Connor Chronicles, I can show everybody what my back looks and feels like every second of the day going back to June of 1977. One of my ways of getting minor relief is using this odd little cane with knobs on it to screw around with various pressure points. But this ad shows it all, like an invisible spade trying to pull my shoulder blade out from my spine. That's why I'm on that skewed road by myself: I leave too many little bits of metal and flesh on the ground behind me. I'm in Nazareth because I have a job I can't talk about, I have to write approx. 400 pages of fiction is all I can say. I'm hoping I can do this and then cowboy up to write my novel CITY WITH NO SECOND CHANCES, which is a follow up with my cop character Frank St. Cyr's breakdown in "Shank Of The Night," from SEX CRIMES. Imagine that shredded muscle tissue moving as I type those pages. If I'm lucky, I'm not headed towards an October Gethsemane...
6 comments:
I hope the writing project comes out well, without too much pain.
I caught an episode of the Sarah Conner chronicles and it was very good.
There will be excerpts.
Oh, yes; there will.
Cthulhu and Abe Vigoda command it.
You will write a great cop novel like no other great cop novel.
I wait.
400 pages?!
Freakin' SWEET!
Actually, its 525 pages and I'm not certain how I'll hold up. I am just so damn happy for that damn Sarah Connor ad because it covers the EXACT part of my back that is the bane of my existence.
GW and Hemlockman, I'll have the cop book done, but you guys will have to live until at least the year 2525, if man is still alive...
...and woman can survive. Heheh.
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