Like Luggage of Some Departed Traveller; Author's Notes
(which should have been posted a week ago!)
Debts of gratitude are owed to:
marciaelena, who truly went above and beyond with her art. I never expected to have so many gorgeous pieces, and I'm humbled by the care and dedication she put into them. Working on a project like this together is kind of like being trapped in an elevator with someone, I think. I'm happy to say that we spent the time, as we waited for maintenance to pry the doors open, swapping stories and playing cards instead of having panic attacks over running out of air. Okay, that metaphor is done. You get the gist.
glovered, who made the bad parts less bad. I certainly wouldn't want the job of being the person who puts up with my penchant for melodrama and my bizarre notions about California geography, but fortunately she has the patience of a saint. I owe her enough favors that I'd better hope she doesn't have any mob connections/enemies she needs taken out.
mickeym, who is the sweetest, most steadfast cheerleader imaginable, on this story and others.
obeetaybee, who gets either half the credit or half the fault for this story. Everything started with this picture, and it started, um, in mid-2009, with the most epic comment thread you've never seen.
Additional thanks to Fiona Appleshaw for her dubious influence on my questionable moral character.
In spirit, since I don't suppose any of them will read this, thanks to the waitstaff of nearly every diner and bar in the greater Los Feliz area - for the milkshakes, beer, grilled cheese sandwiches, window booths, and patience.
Profound thanks to the ghost of D.H. Lawrence for the following:
In Trouble and Shame (1916)
I look at the swaling sunset
And wish I could go also
Through the red doors beyond the black-purple bar.
I wish that I could go
Through the red doors where I could put off
My shame like shoes in the porch,
My pain like garments,
And leave my flesh discarded lying
Like luggage of some departed traveller
Gone one knows not where.
Then I would turn round,
And seeing my cast-off body lying like lumber,
I would laugh with joy.
Debts of gratitude are owed to:
marciaelena, who truly went above and beyond with her art. I never expected to have so many gorgeous pieces, and I'm humbled by the care and dedication she put into them. Working on a project like this together is kind of like being trapped in an elevator with someone, I think. I'm happy to say that we spent the time, as we waited for maintenance to pry the doors open, swapping stories and playing cards instead of having panic attacks over running out of air. Okay, that metaphor is done. You get the gist.
glovered, who made the bad parts less bad. I certainly wouldn't want the job of being the person who puts up with my penchant for melodrama and my bizarre notions about California geography, but fortunately she has the patience of a saint. I owe her enough favors that I'd better hope she doesn't have any mob connections/enemies she needs taken out.
mickeym, who is the sweetest, most steadfast cheerleader imaginable, on this story and others.
obeetaybee, who gets either half the credit or half the fault for this story. Everything started with this picture, and it started, um, in mid-2009, with the most epic comment thread you've never seen.
Additional thanks to Fiona Appleshaw for her dubious influence on my questionable moral character.
In spirit, since I don't suppose any of them will read this, thanks to the waitstaff of nearly every diner and bar in the greater Los Feliz area - for the milkshakes, beer, grilled cheese sandwiches, window booths, and patience.
Profound thanks to the ghost of D.H. Lawrence for the following:
In Trouble and Shame (1916)
I look at the swaling sunset
And wish I could go also
Through the red doors beyond the black-purple bar.
I wish that I could go
Through the red doors where I could put off
My shame like shoes in the porch,
My pain like garments,
And leave my flesh discarded lying
Like luggage of some departed traveller
Gone one knows not where.
Then I would turn round,
And seeing my cast-off body lying like lumber,
I would laugh with joy.