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Life and Times of an itinerant slacker in Sacramento. Thrills, Spills Galore coming soon. Not to mention lots of opinions.

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Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Novel Preview


Yes it is done! 50,000 words in 25 days!



Just about 50% of my regular readers have demanded to see more.

It's a challenge to balance the needs of my most obsessed fans with the rigors of the cutthroat negotiations for the movie rights.

I noticed that this novel has no female characters, with the action centered around smelly old men and Tibetan monks. I figured this out too late to do anything about it. The zombies lack noticable gender characteristics, beyond poor table manners.

The thought that there will be no role for Meryl Streep has broken my heart. I'll just have to negotiate for even bigger bucks for the movie deal. Hoping for at least a guarantee of one half dozen donut holes.

This is the last chapter, an epilogue. I passed the 50,000 word mark somewhere near the middle of this.

Chapter 38 – Time Passes

Years passed. Isaiah picked up his morning newspaper and dropped it on the table. He grabbed some cereal, and went to the features section, in search of the comics. He had developed an interest in the daily activities of talking crocodiles. Before he had folded the section open, he saw the culture column’s headline, “Tibetan Buddhist Monks from Dharamsala, India to build sand mandala, perform dances and rituals at local church.”

The article included an interview with one of the monks, whom the columnist described as having been a monk for forty years, but still speaking with a thick English accent. The monks would be available to talk with members of the public throughout the week as they worked on their sand mandala, which they would destroy in a ceremony on Friday.

Isaiah came to see the monks on a quiet afternoon. A grey haired, pale complexioned monk stood out like a parsnip in a bag of carrots as he stood back from the mandala in progress, acting as a host to the rubberneckers. Isaiah walked up to greet him. The two men stopped and stared at each other.

Cedric began speaking, “We have taken great effort to put the few days we spent together behind us. We do not speak of those times.”

Isaiah added, “In my own way, I have done the same. I am glad to see you doing so well here.”

Cedric said, “Roit, me moits and oi, we’re a sensation, the flavour of the month where ever we go. Loverly it is. Oh, come join us for tea at four on Friday. You should stay for the ceremony to dissolve the mandala. You may learn somethin’.”

When Isaiah came for tea on Friday, he was pleasantly surprised to see Ben and Jerry. They drank their tea, ate some cookies, and talked about the life of a traveling show business monk. At four thirty, the monks put on large hats and wrapped saffron yellow outer robes over their regular orange robes. They walked into the large gallery, where several monks standing by the mandala were already filling small vials with sand from its edges.

Monks blew into long trumpets, crashed cymbals, and chanted, as Cedric swept the remaining sand off the table. He spoke into a microphone to explain the symbolism of the sweeping as a lesson in impermanence. He took a small vial from one of the younger monks and handed it to Isaiah. He said, “This is your lesson, most everything in the world is impermanent, but some things, like this vial, persist. Oh and, you’ll forever be a waynker.”

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Still haven't figured out how to get quotes to come out right.

Literally, That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

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I must enjoy shouting into a vacuum, but I think about getting my act together one of these days. My mom says I am very handsome and intelligent.

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