This happened. Yep. This thing occurred and I am--well, to be frank, I'm very sleepy. And kinda drunk. I dunno which one overrules the other, but I sure as hell have both feelings attacking me at once right now. With vigour.
And that's how you know you had a good night, I suppose. I have a Notes page on my phone full of names of both people I'm gonna catch up with and stories I'm gonna check out. I've got a list of local bands who were rocking out The Bearded Lady this evening, while we wanky literary types drew beer from the taps like the vampires we are. Not that any of us read Twilight. And if we did, it was an ironic reading for sure.
Vinyl's a funny little story. It was the first work I wrote after Isjaki, a story I've featured heavily on this here blog. I was so proud of the ol' iceberg story that I had become anxious about writing anything else--how could anything possibly stand up to what I'd already done?
One night, I was out running. I recall the home stretch, down a wide tarmac street and around the bend to my house, where I would sprint till I got to the front gate. I recall thinking at that moment that vinyl sounds better than digital (perhaps there was a heavily-compressed track on my running playlist that night--one can never be sure where these thoughts originate). I then thought of death, as I guess you should when you're just so fucking out of breath you can barely stand, but you know also that sitting will destroy you further, so you sorta hunch like a cripple or a poorly-crafted stool.
Vinyl was born from that moment.
I went straight out to the back deck, pulled out my laptop, and began to type with sweaty fingers. I wrote the entire first draft (four hundred words shorter than the final copy) in about an hour and a half. And I did it in a singlet.
Then I shut the laptop. "That felt fucking good," I thought. But I was referring to the feeling, of course, and not the output. I hated that first draft, though I did not read it through then. In fact, I abandoned it for around a month--I was so nervous that when I did finally read through the draft that all I would find would be manic ramblings.
And you know what? Vinyl kinda is a series of manic ramblings. And in truth, not much really changed from its conception till now. True, I added a bunch in, but that always happens, because I have a tendency to be quite vague and off-kilter; I skip details often where they are important. My mind, perhaps, is often running too fast. But that appears to have served me well here, and it may well pay off again sometime soon. Here's hoping.