So the other day, I was listening to a couple of morning guys in the Northern California area, Armstrong & Getty.  Being that they’re on the radio, I can never seem to mentally parse which one is saying what, but one of them hit on something I referred to in an earlier post: The inability to concentrate on reading a book anymore.  Specifically–fiction.

It was like I’d found a support-group homie with that one statement.  It occurred to me that it is fiction that really causes me to start going all D.B. Cooper in my thinking when I try to get into it.

This is why I haven’t been able to finish a number of books.  I want to.  I know they’re good.  But something about the exigencies of the day causes my mind to go all test-pattern.

It then occurred to me that this is what is driving my apprehension for starting the fiction novel I have in my head.  Trust me, the idea is awesome.  But I am now wondering whether or not I’d be able to get my own head around my own work well enough to make it count.

This is why I have trouble re-reading Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia but can fly through one of his apologetic works fairly fast (I will say, The Screwtape Letters would be the lone outlier here).

And I believe this comes down to applicability.  The older I get, the more minimalist I become on many levels. The more I guess I’m looking for genuine accelerant as opposed to redwood chips.

A short while back, I was poring over an “academic textbook” if you will–that has zero sense of humor (although I think the term ‘academic “textbook” probably made that case for me anyway), and I believe the subject has not yet been properly satirized.  I’m not talking cheap, two-dimensional volleys from the Cracked magazine threshing floor, but a genuine “alter-ego” look at the subject.  Packaged in academic form to boot.

Somehow, I actually think my immersion the subject itself allows me to possibly write the thing in a few weeks, between work and upcoming exploits.  I furthermore believe it might actually sell.

An immediately, after this contemplative session, my brain possesses NONE of the apprehensions, ticks, turns and paroxysms it does when I think of trying to build a character mosaic ex-nihilo.