I've started scanning random pages from my notebooks -- the Scribbledehobbledehoydenii, as I've named them because, well, because I could -- which I plan to post in plenitude when the next novel comes out. In the meantime, up above is a preview. This is a picture that I tore from a magazine and pasted down and then extemporized a story upon. The point of doing this? To impose a first-draft discipline on myself. "First thought, best thought," as the beats used to say. Transparently untrue though that is.
And the story itself? It goes as follows:
I know what you're thinking, but don't be afraid. I'm a doctor, a mentalist, I've sworn the Hippocratic Oath.Actually, no I haven't and no I'm not. I bought this empath mask in a yard sale and that's why you're lying on that bed, strapped motionless, hand and foot, and unable to remember how you got here. I'm going to play mind games with you now, and then we'll play body games.Oh, hahaha! You believed me. No, I'm really a doctor. For real. But to get access to your deepest fears and memories, I had to pretend to be a mental predator. You don't need worry about them -- they're few, disorganized, and in hiding.Perhaps.Did you ever stop to think how much fun it would be to play with a conventional little mind like your own? One that's surprised by what pleasure another might get out of introducing it to the possibility of creative agony?It could be fun. It could be grand.Okay, I've got your readings now and therapy can begin. Don't worry, this is all for your own good.You may experience a little pain."Here We Go"by M. S.12/03/08
Oh, and despite the date that Blogspot is going to put on it, this is my Monday blog. I'm going to be traveling, though, and thought I should post it early.