Alas, poor Enzo

They broke his heart! Found this on the way to work yesterday. I love the damage to the heart; not sure what happened to it. But it was a good find.

Freitag

Another sunny, mild day. False spring, served up Chicago-style. Yesterday was gorgeous, too. But don't be fooled. I'm certainly not. We're supposedly due for snow over the weekend, which is no surprise. It happens. But the past couple of days were very pleasant.

I calculated that at my standard writing pace (not even pushing it), I can get six novels done this year, so that's my project. I was originally going to bang out a short story a week, but I'm getting frustrated chasing down the ever-elusive markets for my short fiction, which have dried up in a lot of the areas where I write (it really is quite remarkable -- even six years ago, there were so many more speculative fiction outlets -- not sure if people are just increasingly e-publishing or what, but the old hard-copy publications are largely evaporating).

I know the Great Recession has bitchslapped the publishing industry as it has everything else, and the whole industry is taking a beating, but I think there remains a more vibrant market in long fiction relative to the short fiction market -- at least for what I write. So, I'm putting more emphasis on that, figuring that even if I can't find homes for the book drafts I have, I'll at least have them "in the can" and done.

So, I made my list of titles, the ones I'm going to do. Basically, there are two "literary" (i.e. adult contemporary and/or general fiction), one fantasy, two science fiction, and one thriller. That's a lot on my plate, but I can handle it, and without having to entertain Exene (and, indeed, with the Great March Forward [GMF] in progress, even more creative time opening up for me), it'll be actually doable.

I'm also going to work on a horror screenplay -- I was inspired when I stumbled across a link to the Oklahoma Horror Film Festival, and I had a ready-made idea for a horror screenplay that I can enter into that competition. A longshot, but anything that is profile-raising, so much the better.

Gonna be good, get those fucking taxes filed this weekend, and I'm going to look hard for another job -- I'd like to find something in the Loop. That would make so much far easier (including the GMF). I realize that I should have focused on finding that better job last year, to jumpstart the GMF last year -- I had a lot on my plate emotionally last year (both with Exene and beyond), but this year, I have much more clarity, and that heartbreak isn't in my mix -- it's all squarely in my head, what needs to be done. So I'm just getting it done and moving on. I gave Exene way, way more time than she deserved, but she can't fault me for that, can't say I sprung it on her, with 15 fucking months logged from point of outright emotional departure.

Did you notice that I've had 15 toe stubs since 3/10? (sidebar, below blogroll) I really, really need steel-toe slippers!

Texass

The reactionary gorilla in the room, Texas, thumping its chest. This is problematic -- the politicizing of history for the ideological ends of the Republican Party.

Judging from the updated social studies curriculum, conservatives want students to come away from a Texas education with a favorable impression of: women who adhere to traditional gender roles, the Confederacy, some parts of the Constitution, capitalism, the military and religion. They do not think students should learn about women who demanded greater equality; other parts of the Constitution; slavery, Reconstruction and the unequal treatment of nonwhites generally; environmentalists; labor unions; federal economic regulation; or foreigners.

Thanks to the movement reactionaries, this skewed view of history will be spread into textbooks around the country. Infuriating.

Timely

Alex Chilton.

Alex Chilton died. He was 59. That sucks.

The Thighs Have It

I realize that I'm a thigh man, in addition to other things -- there's something very compelling about a nicely-turned woman's thigh. A smooth line. I find I notice a woman's thighs -- she's got to have'em. I'm no fan of the anorexic matchstick legs you see on fashion models and various eating disordered sorts in the city. If a woman's thighs are skinnier than my upper arms, it just looks sickly to me. I'm sure that's the subconscious mating cue, there, like health vs. sickness. Gimme some thigh! I need something to hold onto!

I'm sure watching ANTM makes me more conscious of that, seeing those half-starved, half-mad models doing their thing on the show -- all of them waifs, even the obligatory "plus size model" (What is she, a size 6? A fashion model zeppelin?) is too skinny. There's fit and attractive, and then there's starvation, and all of the ANTM models are like that -- just way too skinny. And they say the camera adds 10 pounds to you, so it makes me wonder just how much worse they look in real-life.

They did two eliminations last night -- Gabrielle "I Look Like Matt from 'Nip/Tuck'" and Naduah "I have a shaved head and grew up in a cult." Most of the gals this season are particularly crazy -- not all, but most. Amazing to think this show's been on for so many years!

I still don't really have a favorite, yet. The one with the eyebrows did a good job last night, but I don't particularly like her. Jessica, the Arkansas Baby Daddy Girl, did well, too -- she seems nice enough, and is very pretty, but I haven't cottoned to her, yet. Ren, the wild card, was so whiny, she was annoying me a great deal -- and Tyra, to her credit, commented on her whining on the set by pointing out her tattoos, said "You clearly have endured pain and discomfort before...." I loved that.

Here they all are. Stick Chicks on parade. Of course, I'm busy trying to find their astrological signs, to see whether the annoying ones are annoying me especially because they're particular signs that invariably annoy me.

PPD: Figures

A well-formed figure needs no cloak.

Impressions

My commute in so many words...sunshine in my eyes, pretty, not a trace of snow, rows of bikes, coworker's high-pitched, nervous talk, peasant blouse and shiny beads of peacock green, stomach growling, ready for dinner, blank spot on the ride, grimace and a seat by myself in back, Ian Fleming and Russian writers, line across the lake, clouds/smog, razor-thin and at horizon's edge, not much green seen as I'd have liked, mysteries and missteps, crowds milling and I'm looking at absolutely everybody, seeing everything, soaking it up like a sponge, receptive, El train droning roar, up the steps, fumbled feet, pleasant thighs and skinny jeans, on the platform, Chuck Taylors everywhere, train approaching, then on board again, minding the waning sunlight across downtown, the building shine, the mosaic waves on the river, northbound, no delays, not too crowded, tall gal with Jackie O hair and silver buckle shoes with black slacks, piercing blue-eyed gaze calls to mind a soul I know, her man's eyes ceramic blanks, they talk furtively, standing, another passenger ("customers" says the Transit Spokesman) has a serious hair-pouf, a regular brunette wave, another man wears a Tide detergent baseball cap, a seat by himself (drove the woman sitting next to him away), then lost time and space, I get distracted by the asses and then I'm off the train and on my way down and a hipster (looking like a young Shirley MacLaine) gives me a looking over in passing, makes me think my sideburns are probably getting too long, then I'm curbside and there are green beads a-flashing as barhoppers hop the bars and cars scoot by, I beat the light, past derelict saloon ("no time for Jameson, maybe in the morning") and I'm past dirty curb detritus, up brick-lined walk, long shadows, now, green lights strung specially for St. Patrick's Day at witchy home, broken brick walk fixed, girl-jogger thighs here and there in passing, then at another intersection, waiting, seeing "Bauknecht" thinking "Building Knight?" Right? German, "knecht" for "knight" and "Bau" for "Building?" Don't know, then past the smell of spilled beer and fresh leather (new shoes, mine, pewter-hued) and I'm home.

St. Oscar of Wilde

Seems right on St. Patrick's Day to honor another of my patron saints, another early one: Oscar Wilde. With him, it was so many things -- his writing, his wit, his style, his fashion, his aesthetics and profound sense of art (and the artist's role in society) -- I was always highly impressed by and influenced by him. I always felt like Victorian society was challenged by his sybaritic ways, and bit back at him savagely, seeking to destroy the man (and, sadly, largely succeeding, at least in the physical sense of radically shortening his life, although is sparkle continues to outlast his actual life). His understanding of beauty and art's centrality to life made a huge impression on me. "Dorian Gray" always stuck with me (so much that I even named a character that in a short story as a kid, "Dorian's Flowers").

He's a feast of wit, and one of his quotes I ran across in early college...

As long as war is regarded as wicked, it will always have its fascination. When it is looked upon as vulgar, it will cease to be popular.

...has always hung with me. I've pondered the meaning of it a great deal for over 20 years, and have tried to get at the vulgarity of war in a number of stories.

I will always be a Wilde Child. Anybody who knows me knows that my wit and charm are some key qualities I possess (a sharp tongue, yes, but silver, too). And I know that Wilde influenced me early on in that respect.

Different Perspectives

Heading north on Clark Street, I took this shot, because all of the perspective was catching my eye while I was walking -- the buildings in the foreground, the reflected buildings in the windows, and the ones in the background (and the sky overhead). With the afternoon light captivating me, I had to take the shot.

Erin Go Braghless

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

I enjoyed having the past couple of days off. Not used to not being at work on a weekday -- even the light seems different. The people, the city, all of it -- different on a weekday. I don't know if it's purely psychological, but it just seems different from a weekend (and it must be qualitatively different -- fewer people in general, more students, old people, bums, and crazies are out). I enjoyed the extra time with the boys. Always, always fun.

Made a kickass Shrimp Creole last night from scratch. Good eatin! Wanna see?

Mmmmmm! It was good! I had all of this great afternoon sunlight streaming into the apartment, so I had to play "food photographer" and snap a shot!

Oscar Mayer Being Wieners?

Hmmm. "Cold cut envy?" Oscar Mayer, oh, you ham! You'll LONG for their deli fresh meats. Mmm hmm. Psychosexual subtext in your advertising, anyone? She looks like she really, really wants to take a mouthful of his...sandwich?

A Tree Grows in Chicago

I couldn't quite get my clementine seedling in proper focus, but here's a peek at it. I'm so pleased. I hope it thrives. I'll take good care of it. If I got to play boy billionaire (or middle-aged millionaire, haha) I'd love to have my own garden. I'd make a Japanese garden. I love those. I really wanted to do that with the property I had in Indiana, but it was almost too much space to even hope to make something like that. But someday, I'll have a nice space and will make a beautiful garden.

I think my endless tinkering in Farmville is reflective of that desire, that urge to create something beautiful out of a natural space (even a virtual space). I think the desire to create something beautiful runs right through the heart of me.