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THE_MIST


                                              June 23, 2006

 During my mid-teens, being a writer
 was my goal in life. To the extent
 that I had any goals (outside of
 the obvious ones).

   Being an over-intellectualized
   introvert, I was very interested        Thankfully, I
   in Kerouac's "spontaneous prose"        was a little too
   ideas, and since I was both             smart for the
   frustrated with blocked writing         alcohol trap.
   projects, and had the feeling
   that my life was in a rut (at the
   age of 16), I conceived of an
   experiment: I would attempt to
   write a mystery novel that took
   place in the framework of my         The working title
   life; I would work fictional         for this "mystery
   events into what had happened to     novel" project        And I haven't
   me that day, and use the need for    became "The Mist".    lost any of
   story material to drive me in                              my keen sense
   different directions in my actual                          of clever
   life.                                                      wordplay.

          A day dream written
          down in installments.
                                       A very common set-up in Japanese
               A device to break       anime: superheroes who (for no
               a set pattern of        apparent reason) refuse to abandon
               behavior.               their secret identities as high
                                       school kids.
      That particular
      experiment ran into
      some problems, of            But was it really
      course.                      that silly a          "If I want to go
                                   scheme?  Maybe        around asking
      I was a kid who was          I needed to take      questions at
      carefully keeping my         it more seriously.    random, I'll need
      head down in the                                   a cover.  Maybe I
      long island suburban                               should start an
      hell... there were                                 'underground'
      reasons for this.       It would be very           school newspaper."
                              easy to dismiss
        The rut that I        this isolation as
        was living in was     excessive shyness --
        only partially of     certainly that's        But the reasons I
        my own creation,      how I regarded it       was keeping my
        much of it was        at the time.            head down were not
        the usual school                              perhaps not such
        regimentation.                                bad reasons.

           What are the odds                          Ther's a Fitzgerald line:
           that I would                               "The true artist lives
           suddenly find ways                         his life like a spy in
           to deviate from                            enemy territory."
           this for *secret*
           reasons?                                         And he wrote that
                                                            line before they
                      And those reasons would be            invented suburbia!
                      incomprehensible without
                      lengthy explaination, and             And at least The
                      dismissed as irrational or            Artist has a name
                      insane once explained.                for what they are.

                                                            THE_IRON_KEY


                 It was the beginning of
                 "social studies" class.
                 There had been a fight       I caught a glimpse
                 in the hall that people      of this fight on my
                 were still talking about.    way in the door:
                                              some pudgy, nerdy
                 Things had calmed down,      guys who weren't at
                 and the bell had just        all known as "bad
                 rung, but the teacher        kids" were going at
                 was still standing in        it, rolling around
                 the doorway.  He             on the floor.
                 mentioned that there was
                 actually blood on the                   Red-faced.
                 floor.                                  Clumsy.


                 I stood up out of my seat,
                 walked across the room and
                 shouldered past him to look
                 down the hall.  He looked
   In High       momentarily stunned -- I             There was indeed,
   School,       was technically breaking             a tiny little
   standing      the rules, and I wasn't              puddle of blood,
   up and        someone he'd expect to do            thick-looking,
   walking       this.                                bright red against
   around                                             the drab greenish
   can be        Then, as I returned to my            speckled tiles.
   a radical     seat, he commented, with
   act.          his usual cynical sarcasm,           The buckets of
                 "Yes, the sight of blood             blood disappeared
   How is it     usually does bring out the           from my murder
   possible      crowds."                             scene.  That
   to create                                          understated puddle
   a free,       I smiled weakly and sat down,        was so much better.
   engaged       while the other kids were no
   citizenry     doubt wondering about my                (But despite scenes
   with this     behavior -- I described briefly         of violence like
   sort of       what I'd seen to the guy next           this, I still had
   system?       to me.                                  trouble coming up
                                                         with a motive for a
                     (And retroactively                  high school murder
                     converted any curiosity             strong enough that
                     about me into curiosity             I could believe in
                     about the blood.)                   it.)








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