symbolic 16: mod fiction
A modified Honda Civic idles at the stoplight while I stand in line at the local coffee stand, its back end pulled towards the ground, a thick fender curving around its tail and extending along the door panels like a sheath of shark skin, a proud peacock tail of a spoiler rising off the trunk. The muffler is a fat mouth and it shivers with excitement as the driver flutters the gas pedal. He wants to be seen; he wants everyone to notice the proud lines of his chariot.
Dude, it's a Civic. I've got one myself and, while functional, it certainly isn't a hot rod. Though, the point of modifying such a car may be just that: Hondas are plentiful -- parts are cheap and accessible -- and not very expensive. There isn't much point in modifying a Lamborghini (okay, that's a silly analogy 'cause they come pre-modified) or a BMW because the expense involved in the acquisition and upkeep of such a vehicle prevents idle tampering. So why the bother? The car isn't build for speed and all the slick aftermarket modifications in the world aren't going to make the car outperform the basic limitations of its engine. Why go through all the bother to make something look fast?
It's a creative outlet. These are the guys who enjoyed auto shop in school, who know the difference between a crescent and a socket wrench. They're just a different bunch than the group who delighted in the command line prompt and who spend all their spare time building mods and customizing levels for the first-person shooting games. And, on the other side of the hall, are the kids who grew up to devote their time to fan fiction.
On a cross-country plane ride, I once sat next to a guy who was working on a fantasy novel. Feverishly. As soon as the plane reached cruising altitude, the yellow legal pad came out and he started scribbling away. He had fifteen more of them at home -- yellow pads -- all filled with the book he was writing. It was his Thing, and it filled his spare time. When the book was done, he was going to transcribe all of the pads and send the manuscript off to a publisher. He wrote with the assured knowledge that his Thing was going to be published when he was done.
I caught a few words on the page as he was wrote. I saw "Uruk-hai" and "Hobbits" and didn't have the heart to tell him that no publisher in the world was going to invite a lawsuit from the Tolkein estate by publishing a piece of fan fiction. Regardless of how many yellow legal pads worth of lengthy plane flights had been devoted to the project.
As the light changes and the Honda drops into gear and speeds away, I want three seconds of time back. Reverse me three heartbeats so I can run up to his window and ask him why. He's got to know the truth. So why does he do it? Why does he spend the time and energy?
Because he -- like all the others mentioned here -- he is alive when he is working on it. He is Doing Something.
writing
This is a reasonably comprehensive list of my published work, both virtual and physical.
THE MISFIT LIBRARY
I am Nine of Thirteen, one of the members of the Misfit Library, a writing collective which puts out a quarterly journal of our respective work. We are scattered across the globe and determined to change the face of the planet one story at a time. The link above will take you to Misfit Central where you can acquire copies of the journal as well as read exclusive online material.
SYMBOLIC
I wrote a column for OPi8.com's Transmit blogs: journals of the new dark underground. SYMBOLIC tracked the novel I was working on, referencing the process and the research materials which mad up the backbone of the work. In addition, SYMBOLIC busied itself with ruminations and considerations on the nature of language and communication. And a wee bit of mythology. The first 100 entries of SYMBOLIC can be found here on this site as well as at OPi8.com.
LITERARY REPRESENTATION
I am represented by Scribe Agency as my literary agents. Please contact these gentleman if you have any queries about my work.