The Party at the End of the World. Not quite what you expected? You thought a Jimmy Buffet parrot-palooza of drunken debauchery?
Well - maybe if you knew it was the end of the world. That's the point: no one notices the end of civilization. One minute you're at the ball park thinking about getting a last beer before the cut-off and the next you're the last sentient being on the cinder wondering if the lines for the bathrooms are shorter now?
I'm back from Chicago and a great trip. Look for the uptick in the GDP soon. Tony Bennett left his heart in San Francisco. I left a big pile of dead presidents in Chicago. Worth it, though. Worth it.
I've been grinding on the structure of the WIP. I was driving back from the gym this morning and heard Jimmy sing about the party at the end of the world. It hit a nerve. Remember how civilization was on the verge of catastrophe in 1979? What happened? I mean, we did have the 80's (_Bright Lights, Big City_ and _Less Than Zero_). We did however appear to pull back from the brink of self-destruction (took a bit longer for some of us).
I think I know. I'm writing about what happened in the WIP. I remember the day the wind shifted. It wasn't much of a morning. The weather was overcast and the temperature struggled to climb into the high 40's. I remember he wind shift, though. I caught it on film at the time on a roll of drop-in 110 in a Vivitar I'd carried for a couple of years.
What if we have a party for the end of the world and we don't tell anyone it's the end of the world. Will the party look like the picture above?
Probably.
I hope your parties are filled with pirates and parrotheads. I hope your novels are filled with hope and joy.
Leave the bodies in the bathtub to the professionals. Oh - you are a professional? Well then. I hope the scene requires counting limbs and dividing by four. If you're gonna kill 'em off, make finding the pieces a little bit of a fun puzzle just for me.
Hope you're writing.
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