I finished my book on Thursday, so I’ve spent my weekend loafing about like a miseryguts, doing nothing at all.

…no. That’s not quite true. I did a few things:

  1. I looked up so much Russian stuff I started getting Russian ads. (When I searched for “шинель,” I did not mean I wanted a coat.)
  2. I ate a lot of grapes. Like, really, a bag full of grapes.
  3. I had this long, weird night where I kept waking up with book ideas, but I must not’ve woken all the way, because these are the notes I made:

YOU SUCK Cool vampire mean girls mess with loser ghoul (ghouls not cool, get mistaken for chupacabras)

PRISONERS – angry freak show made of creatures summoned from other worlds. some of them sentient. oops.

RED TAPE – that time with the Vancouver Association for Survivors of Torture, but they’re the committee who decides who you get to be on Earth and I’m some guy doing a Steerpike.

THINGY – a thingy following some guy and talking to him. It lives in his shadow & embarrasses him.

They all sound like horror stories, but not quite the sort I would write. Cool vampires? Embarrassing shadow-dwellers? And doing a Steerpike—what did I mean by that? Attempting a takeover? Staging a murder spree? Oh, it’s no use. 2AM scribbles are the worst. You wake up, you make your note, and you’re sure you’ve caught the gist, but you leave out the main part every time.

Let me see, though. Maybe there’s something there.

YOU SUCK – That’s Carrie with vampires. Not my bag.

PRISONERS – That’s…the plot to a Star Wars fanfic, but not one you’d find on the Internet. Jedi Juggalo Jerkfest was for my eyes only, and I’ll never forget it. The creatures from other dimensions were self-aware penises, and the freak show was in General Hux’s Juggalo trailer park, but…yep. That’s Prisoners. Jesus fuck.

RED TAPE – This must be about dealing with bureaucracy in a subversive (or violent) manner. I probably would write that, but I’ve no idea where I was headed. I suppose it’d have to be about going to extremes to turn a no into a yes (only to discover you needed that no all along. Because horror, don’t you know?)

THINGY – I like this one. Having a companion you can’t get rid of—except at noon, I suppose, and in complete darkness—that would be the worst. It’d be like having a phobia, but not a regular phobia, like spiders or snakes. It’d be something internal, a body-based fear, puking or biting your tongue. You’re attached to your body, and that’s where your fear lives. You’ll never escape. You’ll never be free. You…

…no. Done to death. I don’t like that one at all.

Can I go back to the beginning and just say I wasted my weekend? Because I did.

Tomorrow, assuming my strength holds up, I’m resuming my hallway expeditions. That courtyard is back on my to-do list, and the stair map, and whatever else I might find.

…”chupacabra.” That’s a funny word.

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