Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Excerpt I from Untitled Memoir

I have had this idea for some time now, but I have finally started the task of writing a manuscript. It is going to be in the form of a memoir. It will be about life in your twenties, relationships, and the misadventures of my life. That is as much as I can reveal at the present time. Below I have selected just a couple of disjointed paragraphs that should leave you a little befuddled and curious for more. I hope to finish said book within the next 4-6 months at which time a definitive title will be announced and any further information on possible publishing. I would love any comments or input you may have. Just remember these excerpts are random, and not chronological.

Excerpt 1

.........The invention of text messaging has made breaking up, an already far from innocuous process, a deleterious and dragged-out fist fight. It is much easier to send an ill-advised text with some mawkish content like “I miss you”, or the subtler “How are you?” than to pick up the phone and generate a real conversation with someone that likely does not want to speak to you. So, just when you think you are out of those pesky woods, having gone four or five days without communication, you receive a schmaltzy text, immediately thrusting you back into that self-deprecating pool of sadness you thought you had just climbed out of. Soon this cyclical concourse of events breaks you down. You know the texting is unhealthy, and that despite all of her pally texts she does not want to get back together, she just does not want to lose you altogether. This harsh realization comes and goes like the fickle precipitation of February. But denial does not last; you know the veracity of the matter. You know it is over, and that she will never care about you like you care about her. These truths are only homologated by the indie alternative songs that endlessly seep through your headphones into your fragile ears hour after hour, day after day.

Excerpt 2

.........Over the next couple of days we participated in the required dalliance of flirtatious, playful and strategic texts, a sort of non-verbal warm-up to our scheduled outing. On Thursday I was studying in the library when I got a phone call from the girl that will now be called Lilly. I answered a little bemused, since the plan was for me to call her the following day to confirm our meeting. Turns out she had dialed me by mistake in an attempt to send a text. Her nervous confession coupled with her delicate voice twisted a knot in my stomach almost foretelling a future of felicity and good fortune. It was as if I had swallowed a fortune cookie and now understood and believed its cosmic power to produce good luck. Our skittish confabulation stretched on for several minutes, as we both realized we enjoyed whatever was on the other side of that telephone call.