I think I’ve figured out what’s wrong with me, and it’s not my hair, or my glasses, or my laugh (although some people might disagree). I’ve been hanging out at the wrong places! I need to spend more time at campfires and little hole-in-the-wall diners where local bands play. Then maybe I can find people that I really get along with; you know, people who sit around the fire and discuss the merits of chewing gum and pass around the weird can of Raspberry Cream Dr. Pepper and don’t care if my mouth touches it before I pass it to the next person in line.

My friend Curt lives in a small house by the edge of an orchard that borders on the traintracks. Last night the back yard smelled like spring blossoms, grass, and burning fruitwood. We grilled burgers, chicken, and chewed the biggest bag of gum I’ve ever seen. I brought a Rubbermaid trash basket full of papers to burn since my paper shredder is on the fritz (and probably tearing apart my sheets at home as we speak).

As we crumpled the paper up and threw it in the fire, I was struck with how odd the papers were. Some were old bills and statements, but a good majority of them were old drafts of stories I’d written. Okay . . . not so weird. But a there were also all this little bits of paper and receipts upon which I’d written little snippets of ideas that I’d later typed for my novel Nethermore. And then there were the maps and the drawings. Haha. The contents of that little Rubbermade trashcan screamed, “Fantasy Author.”

I met a lot of great people last night and visited their websites when I got home.

Vanillapuddle is the sketch journal of Becca, who is a student in English around these parts. She’s quite the artist. She draws these really appealing stick figures and has a keen sense of design in the simplest of lines. It’s like reading Hemingway’s beautiful direct style translated to drawings. These pictures read so well. In one glance you get the emotion the artist is driving at. That’s something most “modern” art just can’t do for me. Art’s about communication, not confusion, and Vanillapuddle understands that.

Colby Stead is a local singer/songwriter. I can’t get all his songs to play on his website, but I especially like the contemplative nature of his song lyrics.

In other news, the status bar on Nethermore is updated. I’ve finished Chapter One and have moved on to Chapter Two. I’m at 8000 words, and the novel is progressing.

Will do more writing tonight and will update the bar tomorrow.