I heard Ari Aster recently talking about his newest film BEAU IS AFRAID & how he uses that same logic, only he learned to call it 'chicken-fat' is especially a cinematic term which I don't see why can't also be used literarily, too. When the frame is so crammed full of little micro-details that your eye has trouble deciding what to focus on. Can't remember who he said coiined the term, some essayist.
Sorry it has been a rough weekend with the dryer running full blast with all those kangaroos. Completely understand book launches being busy and chaotic. They are for small indie game books. Can't imagine the stress that comes along with a large scale book launch plus tour.
It is going to be a really cool fun event. I had no idea about the fun book tours before the Consider This and the stack, and I have been reading your books since high school. I just bought books and went home, not realizing authors toured the country like bands did. Glad I didn't miss out on this one!!! I have been living in a cave filled with Blink 182 CDs and D&D books.
One of my earliest memories was of sitting on my father's lap. He was sitting at a table at the neighbors house across the street, Byron. Byron was an alcoholic. It was outside or on a screened in porch. They were all drinking beer. I reached for the beer and said some half words. He took another drink. I reached for it again. At some point in the negotiation he gave me what I wanted. The bitterness and the fizz was overwhelming. All the guys got a big kick out of the face I made. A taste for Old Milwaukee is much harder to acquire than one for good beer. And of course, this took place in a trailer court.
Then there was the day Boogie went missing. It was around that same time. He was our black cat, and I have no doubt that there was some racism in choosing his name. There is a strange halo of light around the frame that I see when this memory comes. Like the camera is backlit. Also, we had a snow white chow named Blackie.
Writing is remembering. You said that in an earlier post I think. Also, sometimes it just takes a song or a good story to surface chaos or fun we never knew existed. Rewind back the tape is a thing.
The family gathering I remember most, not fun, was when I was 11 years old. It doesn't make me look good I'm afraid. But, it's my truth.
It was during some cousin's engagement party ( I have atleast 200+ cousins that's why I said 'some'). Everyone was there. The house was packed with aunts and uncles and cousins. They had to use the street as room to include everyone. To give an idea of the values my extra large family hold. My grandfather was a Muslim scholar. He published research that went nowhere, so he turned Judge. Education, holding a respected job, discipline and turning out proper were the family values. So, uncles bragging about their kids was what you'd mostly hear them talk about. This was around the end of school year. Cousin A comes in with stories of how he got As in Math and History. Cousin B talks of how he's won a scholarship to go study abroad. It was a celebration. Dads and Moms love to be proud that their genes have what it takes. Looking back, especially since I got to know a dark secret family history, It was all hypocritical.
Here I come having been arrested a week or days prior for being involved with a mob of pre-teens who damaged another person's property. They were having a stone fight. I happened to be around, stood by a car and watched and laughed my ass off. A rock that had a mind of its own hit a car's front shield. The owner came running, and saw me standing there and grabed me. Unlucky. I didn't do it but I knew who did. Street law says: Loyalty gains you respect, snitching does not. The cops asked for names. I gave them the name of a random guy that's in his mid 20s. The cops know I lied. Charges were pressed. The car owner visited our home, demanded a large sum of money my parents didn't have, so he'll settle for the law taking it's course so, I was a shoe in in juvenile. He had hidden helped, a imporant card who was an army colonel who gave him his contact and told,'' If you need anything, any trouble, I'm here.'' Things work this way.
Imagine my father squirming in his chair, forcing a fake smile, but his insides crushed. I'm sure he needed a heavy drink more than anybody ever. Hearing every kid and young adult speak of success. His brothers and sisters proud. Here's the black sheep telling stories of handcuffs. Not in a boastful way. I was explaining myself. What's a police car like on the inside? Bailed but charged with property damage. Facing juvenile jail. It was serious. It's just the kid that turned out not right. I was cornered by everyone, got asked of this and that. Their tone was soft and welcoming but behind their mask of 'concern' was the feeling that I wasn't a member anymore. Kids can feel things. I was ashamed a bunch. I avoided every family gathering ever since. Even funerals and important holidays.
Funny or not, you decide, that army colonel? The ace that the car owner held close to his chest? Was actually an uncle of mine!!I Would you laugh or cry? Went from juvenile to case buried. Embarrasement, and should I call it unlucky situation got fixed by luck? is my most remembered family party.
Can't wait to read your book. It's going to be a ride like no other, I'm sure.
I heard Ari Aster recently talking about his newest film BEAU IS AFRAID & how he uses that same logic, only he learned to call it 'chicken-fat' is especially a cinematic term which I don't see why can't also be used literarily, too. When the frame is so crammed full of little micro-details that your eye has trouble deciding what to focus on. Can't remember who he said coiined the term, some essayist.
I’m so beyond excited for costumes.
In Australia we'd turn on the hoses, no fluffing about with water balloons or cups of cold water. No inkling of multiple suicides to come.
Not a patch on your memory sharing. What a pleasure to read. The mist of time.
I’m going to try Tom’s prompt. I have the perfect memory in mind.
Well this post is fucking awesome.
That memory sounds very special. Thank you for sharing it.
And thanks for the tour prep update as well. Say hello to the chipmunks for me. 🐿
I hope you don't over do it. We need our teacher.
I just love this so much. I love that afternoon.
Sorry it has been a rough weekend with the dryer running full blast with all those kangaroos. Completely understand book launches being busy and chaotic. They are for small indie game books. Can't imagine the stress that comes along with a large scale book launch plus tour.
It is going to be a really cool fun event. I had no idea about the fun book tours before the Consider This and the stack, and I have been reading your books since high school. I just bought books and went home, not realizing authors toured the country like bands did. Glad I didn't miss out on this one!!! I have been living in a cave filled with Blink 182 CDs and D&D books.
This is the most chaotic thing I've read in awhile and I'm here for it. I can't wait to take a Payday to the face.
I’ll take a Payday to the face from you before a discarded corn dog stick in the foot, anytime.
Play on through, Chuck! Lesson after lesson— wow. Eternally grateful!!
Damn that was beautifully written and untouchable.
Can you eat the peanut if you find one in a pouch? (I’m only asking as a formality; If I find a pouch peanut I’m eating it.)
One of my earliest memories was of sitting on my father's lap. He was sitting at a table at the neighbors house across the street, Byron. Byron was an alcoholic. It was outside or on a screened in porch. They were all drinking beer. I reached for the beer and said some half words. He took another drink. I reached for it again. At some point in the negotiation he gave me what I wanted. The bitterness and the fizz was overwhelming. All the guys got a big kick out of the face I made. A taste for Old Milwaukee is much harder to acquire than one for good beer. And of course, this took place in a trailer court.
Then there was the day Boogie went missing. It was around that same time. He was our black cat, and I have no doubt that there was some racism in choosing his name. There is a strange halo of light around the frame that I see when this memory comes. Like the camera is backlit. Also, we had a snow white chow named Blackie.
Love the memory.
That’s nuts about the chipmunks! 🐿️
Wow! Just wow!
Writing is remembering. You said that in an earlier post I think. Also, sometimes it just takes a song or a good story to surface chaos or fun we never knew existed. Rewind back the tape is a thing.
The family gathering I remember most, not fun, was when I was 11 years old. It doesn't make me look good I'm afraid. But, it's my truth.
It was during some cousin's engagement party ( I have atleast 200+ cousins that's why I said 'some'). Everyone was there. The house was packed with aunts and uncles and cousins. They had to use the street as room to include everyone. To give an idea of the values my extra large family hold. My grandfather was a Muslim scholar. He published research that went nowhere, so he turned Judge. Education, holding a respected job, discipline and turning out proper were the family values. So, uncles bragging about their kids was what you'd mostly hear them talk about. This was around the end of school year. Cousin A comes in with stories of how he got As in Math and History. Cousin B talks of how he's won a scholarship to go study abroad. It was a celebration. Dads and Moms love to be proud that their genes have what it takes. Looking back, especially since I got to know a dark secret family history, It was all hypocritical.
Here I come having been arrested a week or days prior for being involved with a mob of pre-teens who damaged another person's property. They were having a stone fight. I happened to be around, stood by a car and watched and laughed my ass off. A rock that had a mind of its own hit a car's front shield. The owner came running, and saw me standing there and grabed me. Unlucky. I didn't do it but I knew who did. Street law says: Loyalty gains you respect, snitching does not. The cops asked for names. I gave them the name of a random guy that's in his mid 20s. The cops know I lied. Charges were pressed. The car owner visited our home, demanded a large sum of money my parents didn't have, so he'll settle for the law taking it's course so, I was a shoe in in juvenile. He had hidden helped, a imporant card who was an army colonel who gave him his contact and told,'' If you need anything, any trouble, I'm here.'' Things work this way.
Imagine my father squirming in his chair, forcing a fake smile, but his insides crushed. I'm sure he needed a heavy drink more than anybody ever. Hearing every kid and young adult speak of success. His brothers and sisters proud. Here's the black sheep telling stories of handcuffs. Not in a boastful way. I was explaining myself. What's a police car like on the inside? Bailed but charged with property damage. Facing juvenile jail. It was serious. It's just the kid that turned out not right. I was cornered by everyone, got asked of this and that. Their tone was soft and welcoming but behind their mask of 'concern' was the feeling that I wasn't a member anymore. Kids can feel things. I was ashamed a bunch. I avoided every family gathering ever since. Even funerals and important holidays.
Funny or not, you decide, that army colonel? The ace that the car owner held close to his chest? Was actually an uncle of mine!!I Would you laugh or cry? Went from juvenile to case buried. Embarrasement, and should I call it unlucky situation got fixed by luck? is my most remembered family party.
Can't wait to read your book. It's going to be a ride like no other, I'm sure.