That's just how electricity behaves.
The Sparrow - 11/11/13, 10.35pm
New Words: 1982
Total Words: 22266
Page Count: 105
Mean Things: Kenny tried to apologize, got emotionally TKO'd for his efforts.
Reason for Stopping: Luxury reading.
Notes: Anticipation builds towards the end of Act I, and I'm all atremble. Ironweed does some of the stuff I mentioned reading in yesterday's Les Misérables chapter. Only, instead of marriage of the cosmic and the terrestrial, there's a very interesting interaction of the living and the dead, not quite ghosts, but ghost-like features of an old, grieving, regret-laden alcoholic's mindspace. Dude's very, very present, but he's haunted, and seeing that brought to the page through his almost-communications with the interred is an interesting variation (if that's indeed what it is) of this thing I'm beginning to notice in the writing I've been reading of late. Hopefully, some of it can rub off on me.
Was interesting to have these thoughts amidst a rather personal epiphany or slow-to-realize understanding of true powerlessness in the face of events or the greater movements of the world around me and some of the people in it. Feels as though something is in the process of clicking into place, not quite there yet, there isn't the du-dum of gears coming together like that; it feels, rather, like threads being tightened but not quite in extremis.
Currently reading: Ironweed - William Kennedy
New Words: 1982
Total Words: 22266
Page Count: 105
Mean Things: Kenny tried to apologize, got emotionally TKO'd for his efforts.
Reason for Stopping: Luxury reading.
Notes: Anticipation builds towards the end of Act I, and I'm all atremble. Ironweed does some of the stuff I mentioned reading in yesterday's Les Misérables chapter. Only, instead of marriage of the cosmic and the terrestrial, there's a very interesting interaction of the living and the dead, not quite ghosts, but ghost-like features of an old, grieving, regret-laden alcoholic's mindspace. Dude's very, very present, but he's haunted, and seeing that brought to the page through his almost-communications with the interred is an interesting variation (if that's indeed what it is) of this thing I'm beginning to notice in the writing I've been reading of late. Hopefully, some of it can rub off on me.
Was interesting to have these thoughts amidst a rather personal epiphany or slow-to-realize understanding of true powerlessness in the face of events or the greater movements of the world around me and some of the people in it. Feels as though something is in the process of clicking into place, not quite there yet, there isn't the du-dum of gears coming together like that; it feels, rather, like threads being tightened but not quite in extremis.
Currently reading: Ironweed - William Kennedy