The first time I ever heard the phrase "soup to nuts" was in a graduate school seminar given by a visiting professor. The professor was very conservative and tame-looking, which became relevant as we left asking why he had suddenly said "stupid nuts" or "zipped up nuts" as he was describing his research. We all learned a little something that day.
I'm not sick anymore! Well, I'm less sick anyway, and I'm back at work. And...my brain is functioning, something that wasn't happening on Tuesday and Wednesday. Fevers always make me have the weirdest dreams.
Last night, as I was skimming through Cyberlama and highlighting some key points on a storyline that I wanted to make sure I didn't drop, I thought of a new ending that I feel much more satisfied with. It better encapsulates a point I have been wanting to emphasize, and it better emphasizes a point I have been wanting to encapsulate. It even opened up a little spot where I get to talk about anaerobic bacteria and alternate electron acceptors--something that will amuse at least ten people who may eventually read the book. It's all about readership, folks!
The downside to the new ending, which hasn't actually been written yet, is that it's no longer a happy one. Damn it, I want to write a book with a happy ending that doesn't come out of nowhere! But it feels like the right ending for the first time, and now all I need to do is come up with a way to report it gracefully.
In other news, I finished reading a book called White Horse, that I consider to be McCarthy's The Road with fresher breath, and I'm now reading Flaubert's Madame Bovary, which--wow--is so much more erotic than anything I've read in a long time even though there has been hardly any nudity or sex (yet?). My vast readership might recall that it was a high school English assignment based on Madame Bovary that got me to write honest fiction for the first time in my life. I can't totally figure out why, but I'm more engaged with M.B. than I was with the last half of W.H. even though little is happening in M.B. while the whole world was destroyed and then some in W.H. I don't think it's just literary snobbishness. I think it has to do with storytelling. I'm not even loving most of Flaubert's prose, as it is coming off a bit too listy, but somehow the order with which he is delivering information makes me more excited to find out what happens next. The first half of W.H. did this very well too. Or maybe it's about continuity--This is a topic for another post.
What's Peanut eating? Spring Mix.