I started reading my own blog.
In some ways, it was difficult to recognize the person that had written some of the those posts.
It was a long time ago, after all, and I'm a different person now in so many ways...
Maybe that can explain why I laughed out loud at something I had written.
Either that, or I'm a raging narcissist.
Nope, don't answer that.
I haven't updated in a very, very long time.
There are many reasons for that, but the most easily communicated reason is that I simply couldn't write.
I experienced a rather prolonged bout of writer's block which prevented me from writing ANYTHING, let alone a simple blog post.
This writer's block lasted so long I began to forget the joy I felt at writing, at creating worlds and characters which spoke to me.
In fact, it came as quite a shock to my system when an Idea struck. It wasn't just a drabble, a bit of amusement to keep my brain occupied. No. It was a story. More importantly, it was a pair of characters whose destiny was bound together, and whose story was begging to be told.
I named it "The Thing In the Basement" because I didn't know what else to call it.
I suppose, knowing what I know now, that I could have called it "Rose and Edgar" but when it first hit me, I didn't know that his name was 'Edgar'.
I had forgotten how good it felt to be unable to sleep until I had written down all the thoughts and scenes which plagued my suddenly awakened brain.
I don't know how long this story will stick with me, or if I'll collapse back into Creative Catatonia.
I do know that I have little to spare for this blog, so don't look for a revival.
I'm just here to grant my sister's wish.
But, just in case anyone is still reading, I will post a short scene from this story of mine.
“What’s your
name?” she asked.
I do not have a name.
“You have to
have a name. Everything has a name.”
Does the sky have a name?
Do the stars?
“Some of the
stars have names,” Rose replied stubbornly.
They were named by humans.
“I’m human,”
Rose whispered, almost to herself.
Very well, then you shall have to name me.
Rose paused; she
hadn’t expected to be given such an enormous task.
“Edgar,” she
said finally. It was, perhaps, the most
ridiculous name she could have given him. He should have a grand and
terrifying name like Ragnarok or Astaroth or Cthulu. But she was thinking
of Edgar Allen Poe, one of her favorite authors, and...
Then ‘Edgar’ I shall be.
Rose nodded as
though naming ancient beings were an everyday occurrence. She glanced through the open doorway and felt
her stomach lurch again.
Perhaps we should go upstairs.
Rose breathed
slowly and deliberately through her mouth, but the smell of blood was
suddenly everywhere, and she could taste it in the back of her throat…
Come, Lonely Child. Come upstairs
with me.
OK, on to the video my sister requested. It's funny, though, that she wanted this particular video which I had always felt wasn't good enough.
Did you know that I intended to include a clip from the Michael Keaton's Batman movie where reporter Alexander Knox is scoping Bruce Wayne's mansion, finds a giant mirror and says "Why don't they call him Bruce Vain?"
I happened to re-watch that movie at the same time as I had "You're so vain" on my playlist, and the two collided in my brain to create the video you're about to watch. So, here you go, Elizabeth:
