Moving on Over

So it won't be long now. I'm going over to Wordpress. The blog will again be on my site (yay). The only thing I need to do now is pick out the right theme (soooo many to choose from).

Just a short note. Oh, I uploaded a mess of pictures to my Flickr account, too. Busy on an overcast day! Find them here.

Fiction is a Hungry Beast

photo courtesy of A List Apart

So I'm writing this story set on a small gentleman's farm very similar to one that my friend Andy worked at when we were in high school. There were many stories about that place: Andy and I coy dog hunting (I'm quite sure that that, too, will make it into a story at some point), swimming with friends in their man-made pond, feeding the hungry trout in said pond, ogling female friends in their bikinis (scandalous for the '80's) while we were swimming, tending to the livestock (they had cows and horses), and drinking in their front pasture (it had a heck of a view of the Albany skyline). But, of all these really fond memories, the one I'll never forget is the story he told about the day they castrated the bull. He went into great gory detail about the procedure, and I remember thinking to myself how incredibly gross and yet fascinating at the same time.

I mean, the bull was reportedly standing placidly in the pasture not fifteen minutes after the procedure (they cut him). What was he thinking? Was he ruminating on how from that point on all he was good for was some steaks and rump roasts? Was he sad over the fact that the cows just wouldn't look the same to him anymore? That all of the action in his life was completely behind him?

Fast forward twenty four years and here I am thinking about this story, this story that has really nothing to do with bull castration at all, when it comes back to me. It comes back to me so vividly that I have to start writing it down. And I have to place it in the story somewhere. It is, after all, one hell of a metaphor. It 'll all be in the story.

Which brings me to my point: fiction is a hungry beast. The blank page is a sponge for all of the weird, eccentric details that make up our lives. Whether it's bull castration or bikini ogling ( a nice juxtaposition of images, no?), all have a place somewhere in a story. So write all of the stuff down that you can; you'll never know when it will come in handy.

And as for the researching of bull castration on the web, suffice it to say that I chose the text only versions. I just didn't want to see any pictures or videos.

August and all that...

Well, another vacation down. The Cape was a blast (check out my pics on Flickr), with its share of laughs and joys and family satisfactions, but now, inevitably, it's time to roll up the sleeves and get back to work.

I'm doing a couple of summer curriculum weeks here at school, contemplating retooling my web site so I can actually have a blog on the site (thank you Blogger- see previous entries), toying with a story idea, staining my deck, staining the cedar shakes on my house, fixing a leaky toilet, reading for school, managing my social life, managing my family life, replying to emails and Facebook messages, exercising, and generally trying to end the summer in a positive way.

All the norm, but I'm in such a positive place in my life that it doesn't even bother me. Quite the switch. Now let's get to the writing...