Wednesday, May 01, 2013

Walpurgisnacht 2013 Report

I’ve come to the conclusions that, for me, the end of a book is the hardest to write. Getting all the players set up for the Boss Fight, prosecuting said Boss Fight, and figuring out what  it should look like exactly at the end (as opposed to having a general idea) is a hellacious challenge that takes a lot out of me. Enough that I can’t even stand to look at this blog, even though it’s an Unwritten Requirement that Modern Writers put some bullshit up on their blog at least once a day, no fewer than every other day (if that), so their presumed readers know they still exist. 

As it is, my visitor count has gone down from the not-quite three dozen a day to five — and all of them from Russia. Lots of love to whoever reads this (assuming you’ve got honest intentions and aren’t looking to hack or scam me) but Russia? I wish I knew who these people are and what the attraction is.

Ah, hell, it’s already May First. I used to celebrate the night before, Walpurgisnacht, but I’ve had to dial back on the alcohol lately. That, and I don’t care about it like I used to. Not anymore. Like I don’t give a shit about the kerfuffle at the Boston Marathon or the current gun control “debate” and whatever else the Ministry of Truth wants to me to care about right now.  Oh, I have opinions about all these, don’t get me wrong. I just don’t see the point in talking about them. Not even for page hits.

I can’t help but wonder if this isn’t something that doesn’t come over some men at a certain age. Bob Dylan mentions his lack of concern in songs from Time Out of Mind and in the Oscar-winning tossed-off piece-of-shit “Things Have Changed” as if his lack of engagement with the cultural Narrative was astonishing. For my part—and yours, too, I’m guessing—I simply don’t feel the urge to yell at the top of my lungs over bullshit as I was back in the day. 

I’ve come to accept I can’t do dick about the wrongest shit going on out there. I can try and minimize my participation in the culture, but most creature comforts require a degree of said participation. So that’s what I focus on. People like reading melodramas of the Zombie Apocalypse. Thank the dark gods I can write one. Goddamn it, I’ll give ‘em the most gripping zombie apocalypse they ever did read. It beats the holy motherfuck out of working at the call center. I’ll paint my brains on the rocks of Eagle Pass before I go back to doing that.

The way my current gig runs I’m expected to post stuff. Something, anything. All right, then. We’ll try the daily thing. Bear with me, all four of you. I should get better with time. Anyway, it’s five minutes until midnight and my time’s almost up if I want something up for May First. So here you go.