Merciless Bitch In Charge

Taken through a rain-blotched window, this is a view of what is left of that earlier magnificent fall display of "sunshine on a stick." Occasional mild winds have relentlessly harvested most of the leaves but the storm that is currently roaring and pounding about us seems determined to sweep away what's left. It's hard to tell in a still photo, of course, but the horizontal aspect of the leaves above is due entirely to wind gusts.

It's been like this since the wee hours, with the wind growing strong enough to wake me about 6 am. It's been rompin' and stompin' out there with increasing vigor all morning, averaging a fairly steady blow in the 20-some mph range, with gusts in the 30s and an occasional whoosher coming in at around 50 mph. With rain. (insert smile)

Perfect day to be snuggled in with a pot of coffee and a steady rhythm of thousand-word patches on the computer. That NaNoWriMo thing. I got a little behind over the last 3 days, partly because of floundering with content and direction, partly because I got sidetracked by making the mistake of starting a Christopher Moore book and being absolutely unable to put it down until it was finished.

Have you discovered Christopher Moore yet? What a delicious imagination the man has. Not to mention the kind of over-the-top humor I adore. He's in the same exalted ballpark as the likes of Douglas Adams or Carl Hiaasen or Dave Barry or Mel Brooks or -- you get the idea -- but he's not like any of them. He is definitely his own unique self and I say, "Hooray!"

One reviewer commented Moore ought to get a National Book Award on his titles alone. Looking at a list of his books, I can grin and agree. Practical Demonkeeping. The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove. Island of the Sequined Love Nun. Fluke: or, I Know Why the Winged Whale Sings.

Those are just some of the titles. I've read the first one and the last one -- and the one that helped derail my NaNoWriMo writing schedule -- Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal. In both Fluke and Lamb Moore adds a section at the end of the stories to explain a bit about "the making of" and gives you a pretty good idea about where facts leave off and his fertile imagination moves in. This is a Good Thang because some of the facts are fairly hard to believe. I had to do some serious Googling before I'd accept certain aspects of Blue Whale anatomy. Did you know a Blue Whale's tongue is a big as a flippin' ellyphunt? My stars and garters!

I would urge you to run -- don't mess around with walking -- to your nearest library and demand to see their Christopher Moore copies and checking out all you can carry away. I can tell you that each of those I've already read are inherently different from each other and you get a different reaction from each. All reactions have in common -- at least in my case -- a sense of supreme satisfaction.

Right now I have Lust Lizard on the deck, waiting for my undivided attention. I am firmly insisting on extreme self-discipline here. That book is my carrot. I am not allowed to read it until I have caught up with my NaNoWriMo word count and that's final. There will be no negotiation on this point. I am allowed to slip in a See's chocolate at the end of each thousand-word stint but no more Christopher Moore until I'm back on schedule. Signed, Merciless Bitch In Charge.

Dayum! I can't believe I'm that mean to myself.